


In From The Cold

by LordofKavaka



Category: Castle
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Declarations Of Love, Disguise, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fake Character Death, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, Witness Protection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 19:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 31,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12087909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordofKavaka/pseuds/LordofKavaka
Summary: Detective Kate Beckett was shot. She succumbed to her injuries after eight hours on the operating table. She died. At least, that's what her family and friends were told. In truth, she survived and was placed in witness protection. Now, after three years, she returns home. Castle Ficathon 2017 entry. (originally published on FFnet on 8/24/17)





	1. Prologue - In A Flash

There was a flash of light.

It was distracting, making him blink and squint, attempting to discern what it could possibly be. As he narrowed his eyes, focusing his field of vision in on the distant glinting blinding him, it suddenly dawned on him what it was. The thought alone was horrifying, unthinkable. How could this be happening now—here, of all places!? He tried to act, willing himself to be fast enough to save her.

But he was too late.

Richard Castle collided with Kate Beckett just after the sound of the shot reverberated across the cemetery. She lurched backward, her mouth dropping in a silent gasp of shock and pain. He clenched his teeth as they fell. His whole world tumbled down around him as they hit the wet grass.

"No, no, no," he groaned, desperately praying to whatever higher power would listen. This couldn't happen. Not now. Not to her. She'd been through too much, suffered too much. Kate Beckett did not deserve this. Never.

He was vaguely aware of the panicked screams coming from the gathered mourners, his mother and daughter among them, but all his focus was on the woman beneath him. She was staring blankly up at the sky, gasping for air. Her eyes darted around wildly, seeking something… anything. Castle gently cradled her tense body in his arms, trying to soothe her. As his hands groped around, he felt something warm and wet along her side. He glanced down, horrified to discover blood on his hand.

"Kate, shh… Kate," he pleaded, trying his best to keep her calm as his insides roiled in terror. "Stay with me, Kate. Don't leave me, please. Stay with me, okay?"

The woman beneath him was already wheezing, fighting for each breath, trying with all her might to comply with his anguished appeals, but despite her best efforts he could already see her starting to fade. His vision soon became blurred with tears.

"Oh, Kate… Kate," he whimpered, reaching up with a trembling hand to caress the side of her face as it scrunched up in fear and pain. Her eyes jerked up to lock with his, as if he could somehow solve everything, make her pain go away. Oh God, he wished he could. He swallowed hard, meeting her wild and terrified eyes. "I love you," he confessed, feeling his voice crack on the admission. "I love you, Kate."

But then her eyes were closing. Castle shook his head in denial, unwilling to accept that this was it, that this was how it ended. Kate Beckett could not die. Not now. Not when there was so much more that needed to be said and done. He could not lose her. It was all so wrong, so very, very wrong. But there was nothing he could do but wait… wait and pray that this was not how it ended.

XXX

The doors burst open and Dr. Josh Davidson appeared. He was still dressed in his scrubs, a smattering of red blood marring the teal color, and he was simmering with righteous anger. He tore down the hallway, coming straight for Castle and the group waiting for news on Beckett's condition. Castle looked up at the man, seeing his brow set in an ill-tempered scowl.

"Snipers!? At a funeral?" the cardiac surgeon questioned with an indignant sneer, like the very notion was absurdly ridiculous. And it was. Castle, along with everyone else, would not have disputed that. But it didn't change the fact that it was real, that it had really happened. However, no one could muster up a response. Most of them were still shell-shocked over the entire thing.

Detective Javier Esposito was the first to move, stepping in to block the other man's path. "We think the people that sent those guys after Montgomery targeted Beckett too," he tried to explain, but Josh just shoved right on past him, heading straight for the writer.

Castle was just starting to stand, wanting to explain to Beckett's boyfriend that he tried to save her, but before he could open his mouth Josh was punching him in the face, knocking him back against the wall.

"Hey!" Esposito shouted.

Josh pointed at Castle with a furious glint in his eye. "You did this," he seethed. "This is your fault."

Castle opened his mouth to respond, but again he was silenced by Josh's fist.

"Dad, Dad!" Alexis was jumping to his defense.

He held up a hand to stop her. This was his fight. He rubbed a hand across his jaw, wincing as he felt his cracked lip. He stared back at Josh, welcoming the man's anger. He deserved it. Beckett's boyfriend was right. This was his fault.

"You pushed her to look into her mother's murder!" Josh continued his tirade, his eyes beginning to water as his voice faltered just a bit before he went on. "She was shot because of you." Josh raised his fist to strike him again.

"Leave him alone!" Alexis screamed, trying once more to intervene.

Martha clutched her granddaughter, holding her back.

"Stop it, all of you!" Jim Beckett demanded, stepping between them. He glanced down at Castle and then back up at Josh. "I won't have you all acting like three year olds while my daughter is fighting for her life."

Josh shook his head. "Mr. Beckett," he said, tears now tumbling down his cheeks. "God, I'm so sorry. _So_ sorry, sir. But she's not."

"Wha… what?" Jim fumbled out, blinking uncontrollably as his brow furrowed with disbelief. He staggered back, almost losing his balance. "What do you mean?"

Josh stood there for a moment, unable to give voice to what they all seemed to suspect he was going to say. No one wanted to believe it.

"Tell me what's happened to my daughter!?" Jim demanded, tears forming in his eyes.

Josh's shoulders sagged from the sheer amount of emotional weight he was carrying. "She died," he said in a quiet voice, swallowing hard and averting his eyes. It was clear from his tone that he didn't want to believe what he was saying. His eyes filled with tears. Despite what Castle thought of the doctor, it was clear that the man had loved Beckett. "Her heart… it… it… she flat lined on the operating table and… and we couldn't revive her. God, we tried… desperately… I… we did everything. But we… we… nothing worked."

"No," Jim shook his head, defiant, unwilling to believe. His eyes watered as he looked away. "No. That's impossible. My Katie is strong. She's strong."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Beckett," Josh said again, his righteous anger all washed out, replaced with deep sorrow and grief. "I'm so, so sorry."

Castle slumped against the wall, cradling his bruised jaw, his vision blurring as he watched Josh hold onto Jim Beckett as the older man processed the terrible news and started to breakdown. For his part, Castle just couldn't believe it. He didn't want to. But Josh had no reason to lie. None at all. To do so would have been cruel, especially to her father.

It was the truth then.

Kate Beckett was dead.

Castle dropped his head, his body feeling heavy and useless. He collapsed to the floor in shock. The rest of the world faded away. All that remained was his grief. He closed his eyes, falling down into a bottomless well of despair. Nothing would ever be right again.

Kate Beckett was dead.

And it was all his fault.

XXX

There was a flash of light.

It was blinding.

What was it they said about dying; that you saw a light at the end of a tunnel? Go towards the light, was what they said, right?

She crushed her eyes shut, not yet ready to face the light. No. She wasn't going to go to the light. She didn't want to. She wanted to live. She wanted… she wanted Castle. Out of everything that she could possibly think of, that was the first thought that registered to her conscious mind. She wanted Richard Castle. Not Josh, her boyfriend. What about her father? Shouldn't she want to see him? She did, of course she did. But she couldn't help herself from wanting Castle, first and foremost. It was his words after all that had kept her tethered to the world of life, unwilling to let go. His words, spoken out of desperation, raw and deep. He loved her.

 _He loved her_.

So, no thank you, bright white light. She was not going to go there. She was not done yet. She had things to say and do. There was a wonderful, kind and generous man she needed to love. A man she wanted to love.

She kept her eyes closed, refusing to acknowledge the light. She would not die. Not now. Not yet.

Her entire body ached, especially in her chest. A groan escaped her lips, and even doing that hurt. Slowly, ever so slowly, the fog around her began to recede. If she could have, she would have yelled for joy when she discovered she was alive.

But, oh God, did it hurt. It hurt so much.

No longer fearing the light, Kate Beckett gradually blinked her eyes open. She was in a white room, hooked up to machines, an intravenous drip, and a breathing tube attached to her nose, supplying her with pure oxygen. She could hear the faint sounds of a heart monitor. Kate arched her neck to glance at the machine, but doing so caused a rippling pain to cascade down her side. She coughed and groaned, slumping back down against the pillows.

"Sir, she's coming around," came a soft feminine voice.

"Good," came a masculine voice.

Beckett squinted in the bright light, and glared out into the room as her vision started to clear. Three figures slowly began to coalesce before her. The one closest to her was wearing a white lab coat. A doctor? That would mean the pinkish blur right next to her must be the nurse. The third figure was framed in black. A suit, perhaps? Her mind was still muddled. It was hard to think.

The suit stepped forward and Beckett narrowed her eyes, focusing her vision. She saw a man with crisply cut hair, and a rather forgettable face. She opened her mouth to speak, yet nothing came out. She tried clearing her throat, but all she could do was wheeze. God, it hurt too much to even attempt to speak.

"Relax, Detective, welcome back to the land of the living," the man said, holding up a reassuring hand. "You've just been through a lot, and the doctor believes it would be best for you to just rest, for the time being. You have a long road ahead of you with recovery, so I'd recommend doing as she says."

Beckett managed a nod.

"Good," he smiled in what she assumed was supposed to be charming, but fell flat. He wasn't like Castle at all. She wanted Castle. "I just wanted to stop by before I go and inform you that the operation was a complete success. Everyone thinks you're dead. I know it will be hard on your family and friends, but such things are unfortunately necessary for this plan to work." He glanced at the doctor, before looking back to her. "Well, I'll let you get some rest now."

He turned to leave.

She closed her eyes and swallowed, trying to process everything he'd just said. It made no sense. She didn't understand any of it. The last thing she remembered was a terrible pain in her chest and Castle… beautiful, gorgeous Castle pleading with her to stay, and tell her that he loved her. _He loved_ her. Licking her lips, Beckett forced her eyes open again. She willed her voice to work.

"Who—?" was all she could manage.

The man turned back around with a furrowed brow. "Who am I?" he finished. After she nodded, he approached her, again flashing that irritating smile, which was supposed to be reassuring, but was anything but. "Agent Brent Culpepper. And I'm here to help facilitate placing you in WITSEC."

"Why?" she managed to ask, her voice rough and coarse. The nurse handed her a cup filled with ice chips and instructed her to allow the ice to melt on her tongue.

"You're tangled up in a big case I've been working for a number of years, Detective Beckett," Culpepper explained. "And as tragic as this event may be, your tenacity has brought some major figures out of the shadows. And now with you're 'dead'," he literally added the air quotes, "they think they've won. Which is good for us. It means they'll relax, let their guard down."

"I—"

Agent Culpepper gently hushed her with a soft smile. "Relax, Detective," he said. "We're just getting started. These bastards that did this to you, your captain, and your mother… they're going down. The FBI is going to see to that. _I'm_ going to see to that. And once you've healed up, you're going to be part of it."

All she could do was nod in response. She was already getting tired; her eyes were growing heavy.

"She needs her rest, Agent Culpepper," the doctor announced.

"Right," Culpepper nodded. He reached out and gently touched her shoulder. "Do as the doctor says, Detective. For now, focus on healing and getting better. I'll take care of everything else."

And then, despite her best wishes and numerous questions, he started drifting away. Before she could ask any of them, Kate Beckett was falling back into unconsciousness. Her last thought before darkness once again consumed her was about a certain ruggedly handsome author and the glorious knowledge that he loved her.


	2. One Is The Loneliest Number

He saw a flash in the distance. The scope of a sniper. He turned, looking at her at the podium, delivering her prepared eulogy for her fallen captain. And then he glanced back in the direction of the flash of light. It was an easy decision to make. Moving as fast as he could, he lunged for her just as the shot rang out across the cemetery. It all happened in a single heartbeat. He collided with her, and together they fell to the wet grass. He had to save her. She couldn't die.  
But he was too late.

She was gasping and wheezing, blood pooling out around her, soaking the freshly cut grass.

He was always too late.

Rick Castle awoke with a start.

It was always the same; the same nightmare, the same result. Always the same. No matter the changes or deviations from reality, it always remained the same. Kate Beckett died. And it was all his fault. He was too slow, not fast enough, to save her.

He groaned, closing his eyes, and rolled over onto his back. The movement caused his bed companion to stir from her slumber.

"Hey, you okay?" the woman asked, shifting around to place a warm hand on his bare chest.

He looked over at her, soft features and kind eyes. He tried to recall her name. Was it Brandy? Or was it Candy? He wasn't quite sure. "Yeah, yeah," Castle mumbled out, voice horse and rough. "I'm fine. Just a nightmare."

His bed companion hummed in response, patting his chest sympathetically, before moving to sit on the edge of the bed. He watched as she stood up, gracing him with the sight of her deliciously firm backside. His eyes roamed up and down her slender form as she stretched her arms up above her head and shook herself awake. He smiled, despite his melancholic mood, enjoying the sight, seeing all her jiggly bits… _jiggle_. She arched her neck to glance back at him with a mischievous spark in her green eyes.

"Wanna join me in the shower?" she asked with a come-hither look.

Castle thought about it, lazily gazing up at her as she slowly pirouetted around in place, tempting him with her firm, fit body. He was tempted, oh… so very tempted, but his nightmare was still too fresh in his mind. _She_ was still fresh in his mind. Lost love. Though he would no doubt enjoy a continuation of his romp with his latest fling, Castle just really wasn't in the mood. Even the warm flesh of the vivacious, enthusiastic woman in front of him could not compete with the ghost of Detective Kate Beckett, the woman he stilled loved with all his heart despite the fact she'd been dead for well over three years now.

He sighed.

There was a reason they were always blonde.

"Raincheck?" he asked, though both of them knew there would be none.

The woman stared at him for a long beat, but inclined her head nonetheless, accepting that their time together was coming to an end. She offered him a soft smile, before turning around. He watched as she pranced away, like a gazelle, full of grace and beauty. When she'd disappeared into the bathroom, Castle sat up and scrubbed a hand down his face, trying to sweep away the last vestiges of his troubling dreams. He reached for his phone to check the time.

 _10:35 AM_.

Good. He still had plenty of time before his scheduled 2PM meeting with Gina. The latest book in the _Nikki Heat_ series was due to be released in a couple weeks. _Raging Heat_ would be the sixth book in the series, and Black Pawn wanted to make a big marketing push around that. Castle sighed, not sure he was really up for planning public appearances and book signings, but he'd do whatever they wanted so long as they let him continue to write about Detective Nikki Heat and 2-time Pulitzer Prize winning journalist Jameson Rook. It was all he really had left of _her_. And even if Beckett still wasn't alive, he wanted to keep her memory alive through the literary alter ego he'd created in her image.

Standing up, Castle hunted around the hotel suite for his clothes. He didn't plan on still being here when last night's fling was finished in the shower.

XXX

"Oh, look who's strolling in at," Martha Rodgers paused to check her wristwatch, "Eleven thirty!" She appraised her son's disheveled appearance with a disapproving frown. "Have you no shame?"

Castle closed the door to the loft behind him and flashed his mother an annoyed look. "Like you should talk, _Mother_?" he scoffed. "At least I'm smart enough to not lose my credit cards and bank savings."

His mother gasped, glowering. "That was one time, Richard," she declared with a dramatic huff. "One time. And really," she shook her head in disappointment. "That was a low blow, even for you."

He sighed, and carded his fingers through his mussed hair. "Sorry, Mother," he said, thoroughly contrite. She was right; that had been rather cruel. "I just… have a headache. Sorry."

Hoping she'd let the matter drop, Castle made his way to his office. But, alas, he was not so lucky.

"You had the dream again, didn't you, Richard?"

Castle stopped in his tracks and turned around. Heaving in a deep breath, he offered a reluctant nod in confirmation before shuffling over to the kitchen counter to join his mother. He placed his hands on the cool marble countertop and closed his eyes, breathing through his nose.

"It's been three years, Mother," he hissed through clenched teeth. "Three years. I should be over it."

Martha Rodgers appraised her son with a tenderhearted look that only a mother could have. She slipped off the barstool she'd been seated on and worked her way over to her dejected offspring. Gently placing a hand on his back, she tried to comfort him as best she could.

"I know, kiddo," she consoled. "I know. You miss her. We all do."

He shook his head. "It's not just that," Castle said. He dropped his head and stared down at the countertop, eyebrows knitting together as he tried to find a way to articulate his emotional state. Despite last night's energetic and perky company, all he felt was hollow and empty inside. He hated himself for falling back into his old ways—his pre-Beckett ways. Knowing her, being her friend, had changed him, for the better. He had become a better man, a better son, and a better father, simply by knowing Katherine Houghton Beckett.

"I have to stop this," Castle sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face.

"Stop what?" Martha asked.

He gave her a pointed look.

"Ah," she nodded, understandingly. "Yes, well, that's easier said than done, isn't it, kiddo?"

"I can be better," he asserted, trying his very best to sound resolute. "I know I can. Beckett showed me that."

Martha nodded thoughtfully. "That she did," she agreed. "She really was a remarkable young woman, and the world is a far dimmer place without her in it."

Castle pursed his lips and glanced at his mother, absently trailing his finger around in the patterns on the granite countertop. "I never told you this before, but the day she… she died," he choked up a bit. He closed his eyes and tried to compose himself. "I… I…"

"You what?" Martha encouraged when he petered out, rubbing her hand up and down his back.

"I told her how I felt," he revealed. "I told her I loved her."

"Oh, Richard," Martha hugged her son.

Castle closed his eyes, welcoming his mother's embrace. It had been a long time since he'd felt the need of parental comfort, but he really needed it today. "I still love her," he admitted after a long beat of silence. "Even after all this time. I can't stop."

"A love like that, you can't turn it off," Martha explained.

He pulled back and gave his mother a confused look.

"Oh, please," Martha laughed, gently patting her son on the chest, the colorful bangles on her wrist rattling as she did so. "Don't act all surprise. I'm your mother. I knew. I saw it every time she called, in the way you looked at her. There was no way you could hide that from me, kiddo. Not Martha Rodgers."

Castle grinned and conceded the point with a nod. "I wished I'd been more brave," he confessed in a quiet voice. "Told her sooner." He paused, staring off into space. "We had this moment—in LA—but it wasn't the right time. I… I could never find the right time."

"Well," Martha sighed, brow furrowing thoughtfully. "At least you told her. At least she… passed knowing how you felt. That she was loved."

He shook his head. "She should never have been in that situation to begin with," he asserted, revisiting old territory. "If I hadn't dug up her mother's case…"

"Richard, no," Martha shushed, trying to soothe him.

"I did it," he insisted, ignoring his mother's protestations. "I'm responsible for bringing it all back."

"Richard Alexander Rodgers," his mother raised her voice, using his full birth name to garner his full attention. It worked. He blinked out of his daze and looked at her. Martha gave him a stern motherly frown. "Don't you dare blame yourself. You are not the one that shot her."

He nodded. "True, but… I did put her in the crosshairs."

Martha shook her head, but he was done with the conversation. His heart felt heavy and worn. He glanced up at the clock, estimating he had just under an hour to shower and shave before he needed to leave for Black Pawn and his meeting with Gina. He held his hand up to halt any further discussion from his mother. She relented with a shrug of her shoulders. He gave her a half-hug and kissed her forehead, letting her know with the gesture that he was grateful for all that she did for him. And then he stuffed his hands in his pockets and headed for his bedroom.

Once alone, Castle threw off his clothing from last night, letting them fall unceremoniously to the floor. He rummaged through his closet, pulling out a clean shirt and a pair of black slacks, putting them on the bed before tugging off his boxers and heading for the ensuite bathroom. He clicked on the wall-mounted radio and cranked up the volume, letting the music fill the room, drowning out his thoughts. He needed to relax, get his mind off the past and lost love.

Stepping into the shower, he closed his eyes as he turned the handle, welcoming the bracing cold water that pelted down on him. Castle slowly turned in place, letting his back take the brunt of the abuse before the water warmed and heated up. He breathed in and out slowly, trying not to think. But with a mind like his such a task was impossible.

He kept seeing her, in his mind's eye. Her gorgeous face, fraught with pain and horror. She knew. He knew she knew. The moment the bullet hit her, she must have known she was going to die. Castle sighed and scrubbed the shampoo into his hair, trying to banish the imagery from his thoughts. But it was futile. It always was with Kate Beckett. There was a reason she'd become his muse.

Later, in front of the mirror, he applied shaving cream and worked his razor over his chin and jaw, getting rid of the scruff. As he pulled the razor down across his cheek, he tugged sharply—later he'd say it was an accident—cutting himself, drawing blood. Castle narrowed his eyes and glared at his reflection, recalling his liaison from last night.

He sneered, disgusted with himself.

God, he was pathetic.

Castle thought he'd outgrown that part of himself. But during the last three years, after severing ties with the boys and the precinct, he'd fallen back into his old behaviors, his old coping mechanisms. And he needed to stop. He was better than that. If not for him, then for his daughter. Castle stared at himself, and nodded, decision made. He might not fully recover from losing the woman who was quite possibly the love of his life, despite having never been in a romantic relationship with him, but he could be better. He had to find the strength to move on and live his life to the fullest, not coast along in a state of perpetual numbness.

For the first time in what felt like years, Richard Castle felt a spark of hope ignite in his once hollow chest. It was small, but it was still there. Life would get better. He quickly finished washing up, ready to face Gina and the rest of the executives at Black Pawn. Nikki Heat would continue, living the life he and Kate could have had if circumstances had been different. Meanwhile, he would finally allow himself to be open to embracing the possibilities of future happiness, now understanding that it wouldn't diminish what he had felt—and still felt—for Kate Beckett. He would always love her. But he'd grieved for long enough.

It was time for him to move on.

As he departed the bathroom to get dress, the DJ interrupted the music with some breaking news: " _Just in from Washington; Senator William H. Bracken, potential presidential candidate, was arrested this morning on Capitol Hill. The Senator from New York was turned over to the FBI under undisclosed charges. More at the top of the hour. Now, back to 'Stop and Stare' by One Republic._ "


	3. Good Vibrations

The blinding flash of lights from the press pool, cordoned off to the side of the red carpet, momentarily distracted him as he climbed out of the back of the town car. It had been a while since he'd attended an event such as this, and it sure looked like Black Pawn had went above and beyond to celebrate the sixth book in the Nikki Heat series. Raging Heat was already receiving early reviews, all exceedingly positive.

To the delight of the press, Castle struck a pose and flashed his winning smile. He then turned around and offered his hand, helping his beautiful and incredible daughter out of the back of the town car. And then he did the same for his always amazing and supportive mother. Martha and Alexis stood beside Castle, and he looked at the two of the most important women in his life, and smiled.

They both smiled back.

His heart swelled. He loved his mother and daughter dearly. The last few years had been trying, to say the least. He would not have been able to make it through this tough time without having them by his side. They may not be the stereotypical nuclear family, but they were still a solid, caring, tight-knit family unit.

Alexis hooked her arm around his elbow, and he leaned down to kiss her cheek as she beamed brilliantly. The press ate it all up. They had once loved the cavalier playboy—still did, though those occasions were much rarer than they had been in years past—but they were also enthralled by the devoted and loving father.

Castle guided his mother and daughter down the red carpet, stopping for the occasional photo, before proceeding through the front doors of The Plaza. Black Pawn had outdone themselves, renting The Plaza's Grand Ballroom for the occasion. Castle was used to grand affairs, but nothing like the luxury that came with having a launch party at The Plaza.

Gina Cowell was waiting for him in the lobby. Her assistant, Benny, a lanky young man with circular spectacles, was standing off to her right, a clipboard in his hand.

His editor/ex-wife offered him a polite smile. "You look good, Richard," she said, acknowledging Alexis and Martha with a nod.

"As do you," Castle returned, noticing Gina was dressed in a gold champagne-colored Hervé Léger crisscross metallic bandage dress. The style and the color seemed to be her favorite for events such as these. It matched her hair.

"Thank you," Gina said with a tight grin. She gestured towards Benny. "We've got a room backstage set for you, if you want to wait and make a grand entrance, or…"

"No need for that," Castle shook his head. He frowned. "I thought we nixed that idea in our meeting three weeks ago."

Gina shrugged her shoulders. "I wasn't sure you were serious," she admitted. "After all, you are Richard Castle."

"I am, indeed," he smirked back, some of his old charm oozing through.

Martha laughed lightly, patting his arm affectionately. "You two finish hammering out the details, I'm heading in," she announced. She started away, but stopped and turned back. "Alexis, darling?"

"Coming, Grams," his daughter said, pausing to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before taking off after her grandmother. Castle chuckled to himself, knowing that between the pair his mother was the one keener to party. Though a college student now, Alexis still so often played the chaperon to her elders.

Gina shifted a little closer to him. He noticed how cautious she was around him. She'd been that way ever since Beckett died. Gina placed a hand gently on his shoulder, looking him in the eye.

"How are you doing, Richard?" she asked.

"Fine," he answered without pause. "I'm fine, Gina. Really, I am."

"Good," Gina said with a nod, stepping back. "Because I was thinking it was time you started dating again."

Castle did a double take.

"Oh, no, not me, of course," Gina laughed lightly, shaking her head, as if the very idea of them dating once again was absurd. "No, I meant someone else." She snapped her finger and Benny obediently handed her a paper from his clipboard. She held it up for Castle to see. It was some sort of line chart, with a pie graph underneath it. "Our research shows that readers are more interested—"

"Whoa, whoa, stop right there," Castle held up his hands, giving her an incredulous look. "You want me to start dating again because a focus group told you so?"

Her mouth opened and then shut. She remained silent, not even bothering to deny it. She just stared at him, as if her will alone would make him comply.

Castle shook his head. "Honestly, I can't believe you, Gina," he said, disappointed. "I would have expected something like this from Paula. But not you. Not you, Gina." He quickly sidestepped around her and stalked towards the entrance to the ballroom.

Gina spun on her heels and marched after him, her assistant Benny working hard to keep up, fumbling with the loose leafs of paper on his clipboard.

"This isn't just about focus groups, Richard," Gina hissed, keeping pace with him. "I care about you. God knows why? But I do. I may not show it all the time. But I do."

Castle let out a harrumph, rolling his eyes, disbelieving.

Gina growled in an unusual show of frustration, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him to a halt just outside the entrance to the Grand Ballroom. He spun around and glared at her.

"She's dead, Richard," Gina ground out. "And frankly, I'm sorry to say this, but it's been three years, and you need to move on. And I don't mean having fun with those bimbos. You need a real relationship. Not just a one night stand."

He yanked his arm free, glowering at her. "Don't you think I know that?" he said. Castle sighed, combing his fingers through his hair. "Look, if it makes you feel better, I've decided to be opened to things. However, I'm not going to just jump right in with anyone. Those days are gone. I promise. I'm willing to move on… to have a relationship, but it has to be with the right woman. She has to be real. I'm done with fake. Okay?"

"Okay," Gina nodded, nullified. "That's all I wanted."

Castle took a deep breath, and inclined his head. "Right. So, if you don't mind, I think I'll like to join the party."

Gina waved her hand, dismissing him. He bowed dramatically, every bit his mother's son, and quickly made his exit. Gina watched him go, an uncharacteristic display of concern in her eyes.

XXX

The launch party was a huge success. Despite his initial protestations earlier, Castle did, indeed, make a grand entrance. The ballroom was filled with guests, all enjoying themselves. The drinks were flowing, the music was hopping, and the people were dancing. It was great. It was fun. It was just what Castle needed. He couldn't believe he had ever actually second guessed Black Pawn's suggestion of really throwing a big, blowout celebration for the sixth Nikki Heat book.

At the far end of the ballroom was a stage, behind which was a wall-size portrait of the author himself. For some reason, it reminded Castle of Citizen Kane. The portrait was framed by red and black bunting, with matching curtains draped around it. The image itself was very flattering of Castle. It presented him with a healthy glow, as he teased the camera with a playful smirk and a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes.

It was an older picture, Castle acknowledged, but it was still a good one. It captured the rogue author that everyone seemed to adore. Plus, the vainglorious part of him thought, the photo really did do a good job of showing off his rugged handsomeness.

Castle spent much of the festivities mingling, shaking hands and playing host. Sometimes he was joined by Alexis or his mother. Though the former bowed out earlier, wanting to get back to her dorm room so she could study. Finals week was coming up, after all. He bid her farewell with a quick hug and kiss to the cheek. His mother abandoned him not too much later, spotting a gentleman her age who was without a ring. God help the poor bastard, Castle thought as he watched his mother weave through the crowd in the unlucky man's direction.

Feeling a little thirsty, Castle veered left and stepped around a group of bubbly blonde bimbos. They were all giggling and whispering amongst themselves like they had managed to sneak into some high society gala. Despite himself, he could not help but look them over. He really wasn't that interested in any of them, just… they were a very chesty bunch, and weren't really trying to hide it. One was practically falling out of her dress. Castle chuckled to himself, remembering how the old him would have absolutely relished seeing the ample cleavage that was being put on displayed by the chattering blondes.

But that was the old him—the pre-Beckett Richard Castle. He had made a promise to himself that he would stop his downward spiral into his previous playboy ways. It was time he pushed forward and became a better man. Despite her absence, Kate Beckett still had a profound influence on him.

When he was spotted, Castle smiled winningly at the group of babbling blondes, offering a quick wave. However, before he could continue on, they grabbed him and pulled them into their flock. He grunted in surprise, feeling their grabby hands dance all over his chest and shoulders as they took numerous selfies with him. One of the blondes even squeezed his butt. Eventually he was able to extricate himself from the group.

Squeezing his way through the crush of partygoers, Castle had to stop on occasion to shake hands with someone and thank them for attending. His facial muscles were getting tired from all the forced smiles. In due course, he was able to make his way to the bar, which was blessedly empty, save for a cluster of people. Castle found himself an empty spot away from the others. The mixologist—the hipster looking fellow behind the bar would have been offended if he was referred to as a bartender—made his way over to Castle and asked for his order.

"Scotch," Castle requested. "On the rocks, please."

"Yessir," the mixologist bobbed his head and turned around to pour him the drink.

"Make that two," came a confident and commanding voice. It sounded so eerily familiar, in both tone and inclination, that Castle was rooted to his spot, frozen in memory. He shook his head. It was impossible. The owner of that voice couldn't possibly be there. She had been dead for three years.

The mixologist jerked his head around and offered a quick nod.

As he waited for his scotch, Castle attempted to make a subtle move to check out the newcomer. To say she was breathtakingly stunning would have been a vast understatement.

The statuesque beauty stood poised and assured by the bar, confident in her body—so much like another tall woman he'd known. She wore a form fitting black Michael Kors sleeveless sheath dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. Her shoulder-length blonde hair was slightly curled, framing her exquisite facial features beautifully. Her brown eyes were absolutely gorgeous, even if they were somewhat hidden behind stylish eyeglasses.

"You're staring," the woman said, cocking her head slightly, revealing that she'd spotted him in her peripheral vision. Her lips quirked up in a tiny smirk as she added, "It's kind of creepy."

Castle blinked and shook his head. "Sorry," he said. "Just… has anyone ever told you that you have gorgeous eyes?"

She blinked, seemingly surprised by his line, but she soon recovered. Adjusting her stance, she turned to face him. "You try that on all the girls?"

Castle grinned and waggled his eyebrows. "Just the pretty ones."

The blonde laughed lightly. Castle frowned. That laugh, it sounded so familiar. He narrowed his eyes and gazed up at the woman, watching as she accepted her glass of scotch from the mixologist. The way she bobbed her head in thanks, and the way she shifted on her feet, it was all so eerily familiar. Castle turned and accepted his own scotch. He quickly brought it up to his lips and took a sip, pursing his lips as he savored the burn of the alcohol down his throat. He glanced at the woman again, studying her facial features: The cut of her jaw, the line of her nose, the beauty mark on her cheek.

He shook his head. No. That was impossible. He was just seeing what he wanted to see. Kate Beckett was dead. And besides, he reasoned with himself, Beckett had been brunette, while this woman was clearly blonde. He swallowed down another gulp of scotch before turning to face her again.

"Rick Castle," he stuck his hand out, flashing his winning smile.

"I know."

Idiot, Castle chided himself, of course she knows who you are.

"Nicole," she answered with a warm smile, ignoring his chagrin, and meeting his large hand with her smaller, more delicate one. "Nicole Brennon."


	4. Pretty Woman

Rick Castle felt a spark the instant their hands touched. His eyes jerked up to meet hers. She'd felt it too. He didn't know how he knew, but he did. She slowly withdrew her hand, and smiled softly. He smiled back, feeling his pulse quicken just a bit. It had been a while since he'd felt such an instant attraction towards someone. Yes, Nicole Brennon was hot—like supermodel runway hot—but there was more to it than that. There was something in her soft brown eyes, a keen intelligence and fierceness that he found utterly intriguing. There was also a sadness there. It was hidden well, but he could see it all the same.

It was very reminiscent of what he had seen in Detective Kate Beckett upon their first face-to-face conversation in the Twelfth Precinct interrogation room. Beckett had thought he was such an asshole—and to be honest, he kind of was back then—yet, even then, he'd managed to stun her with his too-close-for-home observations. She hadn't liked it. But he'd been right. It took him a little while longer, wearing her defenses down, until he had discovered just how right he'd been.

"—books. Amazing. Congratulations," Nicole was saying.

"Huh?" Castle snapped out of his thoughts, jerking his head up to glance at his drinking companion. "Sorry?"

She laughed at his bewildered expression. "On the book," she elaborated, gesturing to the massive cover art posters hanging on the wall. There were several scattered throughout the ballroom, including blowups of covers from the previous _Nikki Heat_ novels. "Congratulations. Six books. That's pretty impressive."

"Thanks," he said with a nod, taking another drink of his scotch. "James Patterson would disagree with you, but thanks all the same. You a fan?"

Nicole shifted on her feet, ducking her head down, almost bashfully. "I'd like to deny it, but yes, I am," she admitted, blushing moderately. "Very much." She placed a tentative hand on his arm. He looked down at the contact, surprised at how right it felt. "Nikki Heat, she's an amazing character; strong and fierce, yet also vulnerable. She's… I don't know… she's just so real. That's difficult to capture, but you managed to do it so wonderfully."

Castle bobbed his head in gratitude for the acknowledgments. "I try my best," he said. "In truth, I owe a lot to someone else."

"Who?" Nicole asked, letting her hand fall away.

He pursed his lips, finding he missed her touch. _Odd_. "My muse," he revealed with a rueful grin, allowing himself to feel the regret and grief over everything that had—and hadn't—happened with Kate Beckett. "She was an extraordinary woman. Nikki Heat is all her. Well, not all of it," he added with a chuckle. "Some of it came from my imagination. But yeah," he bobbed his head, looking off into space. "A lot of it is her."

Nicole nodded thoughtfully. "She must be honored."

Castle laughed, loud and long, drawing confused looks from some of the other partygoers in the vicinity. "Nah," he shook his head, glancing down at his nearly empty glass of scotch. "I don't know if you'd say she was particularly honored. She hated the name. Thought it sounded like a stripper name."

"Well, to be fair, it does," Nicole interjected, biting her lower lip, suppressing a laugh.

The gesture was so familiar that Castle instantly sobered. His brow furrowed as he gazed across at the blonde woman next to him. He was struck once again at the striking resemblance Nicole Brennon shared with the late Kate Beckett. It was a little freaky how similar the two looked in appearance.

But Castle shrugged it off. He'd been the unfortunate victim of mistaken identity himself. For some inane reason, a certain quantity of people kept mistaking him for the actor Nathan Fillion. Castle could never understand why. Sure, they both were ruggedly handsome, but beyond that they were entirely different people.

So, the fact that Kate Beckett had a living doppelgänger wasn't really too much of a stretch, when he thought about it. Nicole Brennon had just been gifted with amazing genetics, just like the actor that shared his strapping good looks.

"Still," Nicole said. "I'm sure, if anything, she was flattered. I know I'd be, if an author like yourself ever decided to write a book about me."

Castle chuckled, cocking his head to the side as he looked at her. "Is that an offer?" he waggled his eyebrows.

Nicole shook her head, her blonde curls bouncing majestically around her beautiful face. She tilted her head back and adjusted her glasses. "Maybe," she replied with a wiry smirk.

Castle raised his eyebrows in surprise. He'd only been half-joking with the innuendo. He had not expected her to see through it, or respond in the manner in which she had. Castle swallowed and glanced away, not sure what to think or feel. Weeks earlier, he had sworn off hooking up with random women, intent on moving on from his grief over Beckett's loss. He'd decided, instead, to find a woman with whom he could have a real relationship with, not one with whom all he shared was one night, immensely pleasurable as it may be. He glanced back up at Nicole, who was watching earnestly, patiently waiting him out.

"I…," his voice trailed off, finding himself tongue-tied. He was rarely at a loss for words. No other woman, save for late Kate Beckett, had ever made him so speechless.

"Mr. Castle?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Please, call me Rick," he asserted, shaking off his lingering thoughts and focusing on what was right in front of him: A beautiful living and breathing woman, who was showing an interest in him.

"All right, Rick," she smiled warmly. Oh, he liked that. He liked that a lot. He liked the sound of his name rolling off her tongue. Nicole shifted, turning towards the mixologist, gesturing for a refill of her scotch. She looked back at Castle. "I remember reading somewhere that you shadowed real detectives for research. Is that true?"

Castle bobbed his head, grinning. "Yes, it is," he said, puffing out his chest. "Not to boast or anything, but I was instrumental in solving some rather high profile cases."

"Were you now?" Nicole questioned, teasing, her lips quirked upwards as she accepted her refill from the mixologist.

"Oh yes, yes, I most certainly was," he insisted, leaning in and lowering his voice, as if he was passing along confidential information. "I'm probably not allowed to tell you this, but I'm going to anyways… I'm responsible for saving the entire city from a dirty bomb."

"Really?" Nicole raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Pulled the plug on it, quite literally, as it were," he chuckled to himself as he remembered the look of shock on Beckett's face when he just grabbed all those wires and just yanked on them. It had been an act of desperation, but it worked nonetheless. As he thought about that incident, he instantly sobered, recalling the joyous hug he had shared with the detective afterwards. Yep, he'd known by then that he was in love with her. Had for a while, actually, but had yet to admit it.

He sighed, audibly.

"You all right?" Nicole asked, brow furrowing with worry.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Castle asserted, though from the expression on her face, he could tell she wasn't buying it.

"Do you still help out with cases?" she inquired.

"No, not anymore," he admitted after another sigh. He swirled the scotch around in his glass, before throwing his head back and downing the last of it. "I stopped about two years ago."

"Why?" she asked, taken aback. "You seemed to enjoy it. And you weren't that bad at it."

He frowned, glancing at her.

"I mean, from just listening to you talk about it, that's what I gathered," she quickly explained, looking nervous. She grabbed her glass and took a quick sip, licking her lips as she swallowed.

"I did, and yeah, I wasn't half bad," he cocked his head to the side, placing his glass back down on the bar. "I was pretty good at it. But even so, I really was never one of them. I was just the hack writer doing research."

"Oh, I'm sure they never thought of you like that," Nicole protested.

Castle shrugged. "Perhaps not," he agreed. "But it doesn't matter. I had enough research, and anyways, it was a bit too dangerous sometimes. And well… I have other priorities."

Nicole nodded. "I understand," she said softly, placing her hand on his arm again.

He pursed his lips and glanced down at her hand, her fingers curling around his bicep. Castle didn't understand what it was about her that comforted him so much, or why it felt so right when she touched him. Yet it did. Everything about Nicole Brennon felt real and right.

Castle straightened up and placed his hand over hers, offering a squeeze of thanks. Again, the moment their hands touched, he felt that spark. He exhaled softly, trying to mask his reaction. "So, what about you, Nicole?" he asked, shifting his weight to lean against the bar. "You obviously know about me. What do you do for a living?"

"Nothing as exciting as shadowing detectives and writing mystery novels, that's for sure," Nicole laughed lightly, turning to pick her glass up and take another sip of scotch.

Castle narrowed his eyes, watching her intently. She was trying to conceal something, but at that moment, he was too interested in hearing what she had to say, getting to know her as a person, to bother with that. He liked her. A lot. And he didn't want to pressure her to divulge more than she was willing to share.

Looking more relaxed after her drink, she turned back to him with a smile. "Believe it or not, I'm just a simple librarian," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. "Nothing special about me."

"Oh, Nicole, I beg to differ," he assured, slipping closer to her, pouring on the charm. "There's nothing _simple_ about you."

She bit her lower lip and ducked her head down as her cheeks turned an attractive shade of pink. Feeling brave, he reached forward and gently tilted her chin up until their eyes locked.

"Don't sell yourself short, Nicole," he said, withdrawing his hand before he was tempted to cup her cheek and lean in for a kiss. Too soon for that, he berated himself. Castle liked Nicole, and he wasn't going to fall into hold habits with her and turn her into a notch on his bedpost.

She offered him a small smile of gratitude, gazing at him with such longing that it nearly threw him for a loop. It was almost like they'd known each other for a lot longer than the past twenty or so minutes.

He watched, mesmerized as she inhaled deeply, before adjusting her gaze, easily covering her yearning with a mask. That was another thing she had in common with Beckett. Both women were capable of concealing their emotions. Both had walls. He absently shook his head, he needed to stop comparing the two. It wasn't fair to Nicole.

"I won't," she assured him after a long pause.

"Good," he nodded, satisfied. However, in the back of his mind, he started to wonder if perhaps this wasn't their first meeting. Maybe that was why he kept getting a feeling of such familiarity from Nicole. It wasn't that she looked like a blonde Beckett—which she remarkably did—but that he had met her before.

Castle cocked his head and stared at her. "Just curious, but have we met before, Nicole?" he asked. "Perhaps at a book signing, or even at the library. I'm a frequent visitor of the New York Public Library."

"No, I don't think so," Nicole shook her head. "I actually just got into town a couple of days ago," she said. "From Nebraska. I'm visiting family… and friends," she added after a beat. "One happened to know just how much of a fan of yours I was, and they were able to get a hold of an invite for this party."

"Lucky you then," he grinned, not entirely convinced that they hadn't previously met. He was getting too many vibes. His Spidey-senses were tingling. Castle didn't know how, or when, but he was growing increasingly certain that he had met Nicole somewhere before. He'd never been to Nebraska, so he doubted that it had been there. She said she was visiting family, so perhaps, even if she didn't remember, they'd met, if only briefly, during one of her prior visits to New York.

"Another drink?" she suggested, gesturing towards his empty glass.

"Sure," he bobbed his head, deciding to let the matter drop and simply enjoy the company. "I think I'll have another. Oh… barkeep!"

The mixologist gave him a disgruntled look, and Castle offered him an exaggerated show of apology. He had forgotten the young man abhorred the moniker of bartender, and its cousin, barkeep. Nonetheless, the man did his job, which was tending the bar. He refilled Castle's glass with scotch, and quietly eased away from the pair to serve other customers.

Castle shared a look and laugh with Nicole over the whole exchange.

As they enjoyed their drinks, they also enjoyed each other's company. He told her about some of the weirder cases he'd worked with the NYPD, and she told him amusing anecdotes revolving around misplaced books and horny teenagers trying to use the more secluded parts of the library to make out.

All in all, Castle was having a very enjoyable time with Nicole. It had been a long time since he'd simply talked with a woman like this. Most of the time, his mind was always geared towards a certain goal. While that was not necessarily the case with Nicole, he'd be lying if he claimed he wouldn't accept if an offer was made. After all, Nicole was a sexy librarian, and Richard Castle was always one to encourage and delight in some healthy roleplay.

Nicole Brennon was a breath of fresh air. Except for the hair color, she was so completely different from the other women he'd been seeing lately. She was intelligent and quick on her feet. She met him toe to toe when it came to witty banter. And she made him smile.

Now that was something no woman had even come close to doing since Kate Beckett passed away. A very rare thing, indeed.


	5. Love is Blue

"Well, I think I better call it a night," Nicole said when they'd both polished off the last of their drinks. "I've probably drank more than I should." She reached for her clutch, picking it up off the counter.

Castle watched as she opened it. Thinking she was going to leave money for the server, he hurriedly reached out to grab her wrist. The movement startled her, and she jerked, glancing at him in surprise as she dropped her clutch.

"Sorry," he mumbled, looking thoroughly contrite. He offered her a small smile. "Just… I… er… you don't need to pay," he stammered out. "The drinks are covered by the event."

"Oh," Nicole let out a nervous laugh. "Silly me."

"Here," Castle said, bending down to retrieve her clutch off the floor. He handed it back to her with an apologetic smile. "Sorry."

She shook her head, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Don't be," Nicole said, her eyes glistening with warmth. "It was really nice meeting you, Rick."

"It was my pleasure, Nicole," he replied with a grin.

He watched as Nicole glanced around nervously, her chest expanding and contracting as she breathed in and out. She looked back at him, as if making a decision on impulse. Nicole popped open her clutch and withdrew a small flat card. She placed it on the bar counter and gently pushed it towards him.

"Room 447," she hurriedly whispered, and then she was off.

Castle stood stock still, astonished and enthralled, watching as she strolled away, hips swaying enticingly as she disappeared into the crowd. He shifted on his feet and stared down at the key card. It sat there on the bar, beckoning to him with the promise of more time with the sexy librarian if he should choose. His brow furrowed as he contemplated picking it up and following her. Weeks earlier, he'd sworn off such rendezvous, but Nicole Brennon was something very different than he'd expected.

He swallowed as the notion ruminated around in his mind.

Over the last few years, he'd gone for shallow and vapid. Most had been blondes, with the occasional brunette, but those were rare. He mostly stuck with blondes. And all of them had been fine with their relationship being purely physical. There was nothing to invest with them. They were a passing thing. But that would be different with a woman like Nicole. With her, he could drop the façade and be real. Emotions would come in to play. They could have deep and intellectually stimulating discussions. She was someone he could share more than a steamy night with.

Castle hadn't expected to find such a woman so soon after deciding it was time to move on and find someone real to be with. She was bright, intelligent, and, needless to say, exceedingly beautiful. There was no question in his mind that he found her sexually attractive; he'd be blind and insane if he did not. But he also enjoyed her companionship. Simply talking with her, about nothing at all, had been enjoyable. She intrigued him. He'd only known her for a brief time, but he was already utterly fascinated by her. And he found himself wishing— _and wanting_ —to spend more time with her.

Making a split decision, one he hoped he didn't regret, Castle snatched the key card off the counter, and discreetly made his leave of the party being held in his honor.

XXX

Forty-three minutes later, he stepped off the elevator, having arrived on the fourth floor. It had not been as easy to escape from his party as anticipated.

His agent, Paula Haas, had spotted him before he could sneak out. She dragged him into a meet and greet with some of the city's top critics and book reviewers. He managed to compress that down to a handful of minutes. After which Gina had nabbed him for a rather lengthy talk with Black Pawn executives, already eager for a seventh _Nikki Heat_ book. He assured them that ideas were already percolating and new chapters weren't that far off before his editor/ex-wife released her vice.

As he made his way for the ballroom exit, Castle had spotted his mother. She was drinking a large flute of champagne, clearly looking for him. It was so very tempting to evade her search, but she had been so good to him over the last couple of years, he couldn't avoid her.

"Ah, there you are, darling," his mother offered him a bright smile as he joined her. "Enjoying the party?"

After a moment's hesitation, he nodded tentatively. "More so than I had expected," he admitted with a modest grin.

"I recognize that look," Martha tapped his chest with the back of her hand. "You met someone. And…" her eyebrows rose in astonishment, "you like her… _a lot_."

Castle conceded with a slight blush. Only his mother could make him feel like he was back in boarding school with a boyish crush. She eyed him uncertainly.

"But I thought you'd—?"

"I had," he assured her.

She gave him a pointed look. "Then why are you attempting to sneak out of your own party?"

He frowned as he looked down at the marble floor. "I don't know," he answered honestly as he returned his mother's questioning gaze. "I just have to see her again."

"Well, okay, dear," Martha relented, stepping aside. "Don't let me hold you back. Just… be careful, Richard."

He paused, shared a long look with the woman who raised him. "I will, Mother."

Presently, Castle looked both ways down the fourth-floor hallway, bouncing anxiously on the balls of his feet. He could not say whether or not it was from anticipation or nerves. It was certainly an odd sensation to have. After taking several deep breaths, Castle set off in the direction of Room 447. As he walked down the hallway, nagging little doubts started to creep into his mind.

Was he making the right choice? It almost felt like a backwards slide from what he had been intending to do since his last fling. Meaningless hook-ups with women he'd just met at parties was something he had decided to avoid. Yet here he was, making his way to the hotel suite of a woman he'd just met, with the intent of doing just that. It was impulsive, and completely contrary to his decision to refrain from such liaisons, and instead concentrate on finding a _real_ woman, with whom he could have a _real_ relationship with.

 _But Nicole is real_ , his mind argued.

She wasn't some bimbo with fake… _assets_. Yes, of course, she was indisputably gorgeous. There was no way of hiding that when she'd attended the party wearing that form fitting dress. And he was attracted to her, but not just physically. From their brief conversation at the bar, it was decidedly apparent that the woman had a keen and perceptive mind, which probably came from being a librarian and reading all those books. She was obviously highly intelligent.

That was what attracted him to her.

It most definitely wasn't because she resembled a certain late detective.

His pace slowed.

It absolutely wasn't because of that. _No_ , he shook his head. It had nothing to do with that. Castle refused to even consider such a notion. If such a thing were true, then he was a sick, depraved individual. It would be cruel and wrong, not just to Kate Beckett's memory, but to Nicole. She was a living, breathing person, and to use her to fulfill a long held fantasy about being with a woman who was now dead would be such a terrible thing to do.

And Richard Castle would not be that man.

He stopped in his tracks, and stared down at the carpeted floor, brow furrowed as he thought, hard and deep. Was he that man? _Perhaps_ , Castle reluctantly admitted. He would be lying if he said he didn't still love Beckett. He would always love her. But there was no way he could ever be with her. And he wouldn't allow Nicole, a woman he generally liked and was interested in, to become some sort of second placeholder for a dead woman. That would just be wrong. So very wrong. And Castle was definitely _not_ that kind of man. He firmly believed that. Even if he'd never decided to stop his philandering ways, he would like to have believed he would never be that pathetic or perverted.

And he would not do that to a woman like Nicole. She deserved better than that. He deserved better. They both did.

A new sense of determination flowed through his veins as he picked up the pace, glancing up at the room numbers as he marched by each door. Castle understood where he was, both mentally and emotionally. And it wasn't in a place to start a proper relationship with a woman he'd just met. Yes, he still intended on going to Nicole's hotel room. However, his intention, once there, was not the same as before. He was relatively positive that after he explained it all, Nicole would understand. Perhaps in the future, when he was properly ready, they could meet up again and make a try at something.

It just wasn't going to be tonight.

Arriving at Room 447, Castle paused briefly, taking some time to collect himself. His mind was still somewhat jumbled with all his wrangled thoughts. Steeling himself for turning down any advances, Castle retrieved the key card from his pocket and inserted it into the locking mechanism. There was an electronic buzz, and the light flashed green as the tumblers disengaged. Castle grabbed the handle and twisted it down, pushing the door open.

The interior of the hotel suite was mostly dark, save for a light coming from what he presumed was the bedroom. Pursing his lips, Castle inhaled quickly through his nose, gearing up to face the alluring librarian from Nebraska. He pocketed the key card and took three tentative steps into the room, halting at the threshold to the bedroom. He peered inside, catching a glimpse of her lying on the bed. His pulse quickened at the sight of so much exposed skin. Nicole lay sprawled across the bedsheet in an alluring set of black lingerie. His eyes lingered on the display, drinking in the sight of her long, toned legs, and her flat and firm stomach.

"Rick?"

Castle stumbled, caught off guard, and literally tripped over his own two feet as he emerged from the shadows and entered the dimly lit room. Nicole sat up, moving with a sensual grace that had him reconsidering his earlier self-pledge to not jump into bed with her. But she was making it so very difficult to remain firmly resolve. He shook his head. _Firm_ was not a word he should be thinking about. He shifted, uncomfortable, trying not to stare at the wondrous glorious sight before him.

God, she was beautiful, intoxicating… _extraordinary_.

He faltered at that last word choice. It was too close to how he so often described a certain detective.

"Rick?" repeated Nicole.

Her concerned voice snapped him back to the present. Castle swallowed hard, and flicked his eyes up to look at her, avoiding lingering on all the delightfully exposed flesh. Nicole's head was tilted somewhat, and her blonde hair was combed back behind her ears, revealing more of her gorgeous face. Her expressive brown eyes were no longer covered by the prescription lenses, appearing more hazel in the warm glow coming from the sconce light fixtures mounted at the head of the bed. It gave her this magical, almost ethereal look.

She was absolutely exquisite.

"Nicole, I… um… I just…," he stammered out her name and barely anything else, keeping his eyes up and away from her delectably laced covered breasts. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips as her chest rose and fell as she took in several breaths. A thin sheen of sweat manifested on his forehead as his blood warmed with raw and wanton desire.

He was beginning to lose his grip on the delicate control over his attraction towards this beautiful woman. He could feel it slipping away. Before he lost any more ground, Castle tore his gaze away from her, dropping his head to stare at the floor, silently willing his logic and reason to win over his baser, more carnal instincts.

"I'm sorry," he spun around, putting his back to her. His shoulders hunched as he took in a ragged breath. "I can't. I'm sorry. I wish… it's not that I don't want to—I do, Lord knows I do—but I can't. At least, not yet." Feeling stronger as he continued to talk, Castle straightened his back and slowly moved around to face Nicole. "It's not you," he asserted, placing a hand on his chest. "It's me. I know how cliché and silly that sounds, but it's true. I really like you, Nicole… a lot. But… It wouldn't be fair to you. So, I'm sorry, but I can't do this right now," he made a feeble gesture towards her undressed appearance.

"Why?" she asked, as if it was a casual question. It didn't even seem to bother her that he was rejecting her advances.

"My muse," he answered simply with a shrug of his shoulders. "I didn't tell you before, but… she died." His jaw tensed as he felt the buildup of grief-driven tears. He paused, taking a deep breath to quell the rising tide and keep it at bay.

Later, when he was alone, he would allow himself to grieve properly, probably for the first time since her funeral. If meeting Nicole had taught him anything, it was that it was possible to move on. He just wasn't ready to do that.

Shifting on his feet, he tilted his head to the side and looked down at Nicole, sitting there on the bed, still in nothing but black lingerie, waiting expectantly for more.

"I was in love with her," he confessed, not sure why. "Still. Probably forever will be. And I think I still need time to come to terms with that and her passing."

"I understand," Nicole nodded, stretching her arm out to snag the fluffy material of a hotel bathrobe that was resting at the foot of the bed. She stood up in a fluid, graceful motion, and slipped it on over her shoulders. Bowing her head, she pulled the robe around her alluring figure, securing the sash around her slim waist. She brought her eyes up and looked at him.

Castle shifted uneasily, seeing something in her eyes that didn't quite make sense.

"I understand," Nicole repeated, stepping closer to him. "But before you leave. I need to tell you something."

"What?" Castle managed to squeak out, feeling slightly flustered by her close proximity. He could smell her perfume; a delightful mixture of vanilla and cherries. It was so very familiar. The synapses in his brain crackled, finally putting the pieces together just barely before she spoke her next words.

"Castle, it's me… And I love you, too."


	6. Resurrection

Castle's whole world came crashing down. Or did it simply implode. It didn't matter. The effect was the same. He stared at the woman standing right in front of him, lost in a state of shock and discombobulation. How could he have been so blind? The truth of it was, quite literally, staring him in the face. He felt like such a fool. When he looked past the blonde hair and really looked at her, it was painfully obvious that Nicole Brennon was really Katherine Houghton Beckett. The glasses and hair weren't really that good of a disguise.

Just how could he have missed it?

"Kate?" he stammered out, recoiling, like he'd just seen a ghost. And in a way, he had. Kate Beckett was supposed to be dead. He distinctly remembered being in the hospital when it happened. Josh—her cardiac surgeon boyfriend—had come out of the operation room to tell them. Castle vividly recalled their encounter. Dr. Davidson had blamed him for her death. His hand went to his jaw at the memory.

_You pushed her to look into her mother's murder!_

_She was shot because of you._

And Josh had been right. He _had_ reopened Johanna Beckett's case. If it hadn't been for him poking around where his nose didn't belong, then none of that would have happened. But… his eyes blinked, returning him to the present. He frowned, staring in disbelief at the beautiful woman standing right in front of him. Alive. Kate Beckett was alive!

How?

"Beckett? Is that… are you real?" he questioned in a wavering voice, struggling to retain his sanity. He closed his eyes, inhaling a deep breath in hope of centering himself. When he opened them, she was still there, standing right in front of him. His brow furrowed. "This… this can't be real? Can it? I'm dreaming, right? _Please_ , tell me I'm dreaming."

Nicole—No, Kate… Kate Beckett—took a step forward and, after a moment's hesitation, cautiously reached up to cup his face in her hands.

"I'm sorry, Castle," she said, and this time he recognized it—truly recognized her voice. It was her. It was Kate Beckett. "I'm so sorry. And no, this isn't a dream." And then, as if to prove it, she pushed up on her toes and captured his lips in a soft and gentle kiss.

He stood stock still, not knowing how to react. From the profound pounding in the center of his chest and the warmth of her breath caressing his cheek as she drew back, Castle knew that this was no dream. It was very much real. He was still trying to grasp ahold of this new reality, when Beckett started speaking again.

"I wanted to tell you," she claimed as her hands shifted to his shoulders.

It didn't seem she was able to let him go. Her fingers curled tightly into the material of his jacket, clutching at him, almost desperately so. Soon she started to ramble, unable to stop talking. If he wasn't so disoriented by her sudden resurrection, he might have found her rambling cute.

"I'm so sorry, Castle. I wanted to tell you," she repeated. "But I couldn't. There's a reason why. And I know that's a poor excuse, simply to say there's a reason and not explain. But… God, Castle, you don't know how difficult it was, how… lonely it's been. I… I'm just sorry. So very sorry. You have no idea just how sorry I am; how much guilt I've had to carry over the past three years. But they told me I couldn't and I—"

"They?" Castle gently nudged her away from him, and took a step back to create more distance between them. He shook his head in dismay and uncertainty. He felt swindled, betrayed, furious, outraged—a combination of all of the above. He stared into the eyes of the woman he'd met at the bar, seeing another person; seeing someone he'd once thought dead. He just didn't understand any of it. He felt dizzy with it. "Who are _they_ , Beckett?"

"The FBI," Beckett answered.

"I think I need to sit down," Castle murmured. He swayed around her and plopped down on the edge of the bed. He bent forward, putting his head between his knees as he took several deep breaths.

She remained standing, arms wrapped around her middle in an almost protective manner. He glanced up at her when he was more settled, eyebrows knitted together as he attempted to reconcile what was the truth with what he had once believed to be so.

He shook his head. "I don't understand. We were told you died during surgery. Cardiac arrest, if I remember correctly."

She gave a gentle nod. "I did go into cardiac arrest, yes," she confirmed. "But Dr. Kovaks was able to revive me."

Castle frowned. "But… but Josh? He said they tried everything they could to save you, but they couldn't. You… he saw you die on the operating table."

He stared up at Beckett, challenging her to refute what he'd just said.

"I'm sorry, Castle, but I honestly don't know all the details," she claimed. He didn't know if he believed her. He was still wrapping his head around the fact that she was actually alive. "What I do know is that the FBI somehow arranged for it to appear like I died. They needed people to think I was dead."

"Why?" Castle asked. "Why do such a thing? Not just to me, Ryan and Esposito… Lanie… but to your father." His voice cracked as his vision grew watery. "Do you have any idea how hard that hit him; to lose his only daughter to the same monsters that took his wife?"

Beckett stared at him for a long moment before sitting down next to him. She looked like she wanted to touch him, to offer some sort of comfort, but she held back, recognizing that now was not the time.

"I didn't know," she said. "When I woke up in the hospital after I was shot, I was greeted by an FBI agent, Brent Culpepper. He explained what was going on and that this deception was crucial to a big corruption case he was working. At the time, I was still heavily medicated, and a little disoriented. So it's still kind of fuzzy, even now. But to make a long story short—"

"Too late," Castle interjected, earning a small, somewhat relieved, smile from her. Humor; He'd always used it as a coping mechanism in times of stress. "Sorry, continue."

Beckett nodded. "I was placed in witness protection almost immediately."

He held up a hand to stop her. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't they need your consent to do that?" he questioned.

"Let's just say Agent Culpepper wasn't exactly following procedure when he set this all up," Beckett explained. "He'd been working this case for a while and hit a lot of dead ends. Then a link popped up between his case and the one we were running. But I was shot before he could reach out."

"So this is all his fault?" Castle asked, already despising the guy for putting them all in this situation.

"Yes… and no," Beckett grimaced. "When I was lucid enough, he returned with consent forms for me to sign. And I did."

"Why?"

"It'd been a couple of days, and the damage had already been done," she shrugged. "Honestly, at that point I was just thinking how this was the best chance I had to get the bastards who were behind my mother's murder. So, I signed the forms." She paused, swallowing. "To be honest, I was naïve. I thought it would all be over in a handful of months, not three years."

Castle let out a sigh as he nodded. He didn't like it, but he understood. He could see her deciding to go along with the plan after the fact, simply for that very reason. Beckett was single-minded when it came to her mother's case. It should hurt, knowing she chose that obsession over him, but for some reason it didn't. He'd grown numb to it, Castle supposed. It was who she was. And, damn him, that was the woman he'd fallen in love with. He'd gone in head first, fully aware. There was no reason to fault her that. Kate Beckett was just being Kate Beckett. And he loved her, the complete package, including all the flaws she possessed.

"From what I remember," she went on, "I was kept in protective isolation at the hospital until I was well enough to travel. When I could be moved, Agent Culpepper returned with the US Marshals and transported me to a safe house in upstate New York where I could begin therapy. I was never alone. There was always a deputy marshal or caregiver with me at all times. It was a little unnerving."

She paused for a breath. Castle kept his mouth shut. This was one of the few times in his life when he didn't feel the need to interrupt. He stared down at the rich carpeting, studying the intricate pattern as he waited for Beckett to continue with her story.

"Getting better, it was a bitch," she said with a slight watery chuckle. He glanced up in time to see her hurriedly wipe at her eyes. She sniffled a bit and dropped her hands into her lap. "Struggle was my constant companion. It took a lot of work to get back into shape. If things had been different, I don't know how I would have managed." She shook her head and let out a dry laugh. "Alone, probably. My Dad, he'd try to help me—you would, too—but, I'd probably push both you away, wanting to do it on my own. Be independent."

Castle nodded. From everything he knew about Kate Beckett, that sounded accurate. It amazed him, though, that she actually admitted it.

"Needless to say, I got better," Beckett pressed on, clearly wanting to move beyond that part of the story. "Once I'd healed up enough, the US Marshals moved me again. This time to Nebraska, where I was given the name and identity of Nicole Brennon. I was told to lay low and stay out of sight. Basically, go against my very nature." She stared off into the distance, her eyes glazing over with the memories she hadn't yet shared. "It frustrated the hell out of me, having nothing to do. All I wanted to do was work the case. Agent Culpepper had said I'd be helping. But they had nothing for me. They told me to just relax, let things play out. So, for the first few weeks, I just lazed about, binge watching _Nebula 9_ and _Temptation Lane_."

He couldn't hold back the little laugh that came out at that. Beckett frowned and gave him a pointed look. Castle just shrugged his shoulders, and held up a conciliatory hand. Yet somehow having her glare at him again was comforting. It was normal.

"Sorry," he said, anything but. "I couldn't help it. _Nebula 9_ , really?"

"What!?" she hooted in surprise, her eyes going wide. "I thought you'd like it."

"I like _good_ sci-fi," Castle stated with a smirk, his eyes alight with amusement, at her expense. " _Star Trek_. _Battlestar_. That Joss Whedon show. But _Nebula 9_? No, no. It's all phony melodrama and lifeless acting."

Beckett's face fell, like he'd just kicked a puppy in front of her. If this were any other time, Castle would have attempted to lighten the mood. But he was still cross with her. She shifted, bringing a hand up to card her fingers through her blonde hair. Castle watched, brow furrowing as he observed.

"The hair?" she questioned, having noticed his intent stare.

He nodded.

"They asked me to do it," Beckett said. "Another way to hide, they said." She paused, head tilted to the side as she gazed at him, uncertain. "That argument we had in my apartment, before Montgomery—before everything else that happened—you were right about me. About a lot of things. But I was afraid. Still am." She nibbled on her bottom lip and averted her eyes. "You're angry, aren't you?"

Castle clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes. "You're damn right I am," he said, pushing up off the bed to pace away from her, needing some distance to allow his irritation at her actions some air to breathe. What had she expected? Did she think she could just waltz right back into his life and be welcomed with open arms? And what was this all that lying down in the bar? Why had she kept up the ruse of being Nicole Brennon?

He placed his hands on his hips and allowed himself some time to simply stew in his own thoughts. All these questions needed answers. But at the moment, he had trouble even looking at her. Keeping his gaze away from her, Castle glared at the wall. He couldn't think straight if he was looking at her, especially when he knew what little she was wearing underneath that fluffy bathrobe.

She gave him time, not pressuring him to say anything or make any decisions. She simply waited him out. He wondered if her current restraint in not pushing him was a skill she'd picked up in the interrogation room. Thinking back to the days when he had shadowed her, Castle recalled how astonished and in awe he was of her interrogation skills. He'd never seen anyone as good as her. She had been the best. It had been a pleasure to watch her work.

"I… just need some time," Castle asserted, waving a hand in the air, and moving towards the bathroom, not even bothering to look glance at her. He suspected she wasn't going anywhere.

Closing the door and locking it behind him, Castle spun towards the sink, turning the nozzle and cupping his hands under the cool gush of water streaming out. He closed his eyes and splashed his face a few times, before twisting the knob, shutting off the stream of water. Eyes still closed, he groped around for a hand towel, and padded the soft material against his face.

Lowering the cloth, Castle stared at his reflection in the mirror.

God, he looked terrible. His eyes were bloodshot. He had an overall haggard appearance. And he had far too many frown lines for his liking. He shook his head, dragging his gaze away from the image he saw before him. He let out a breath of air, and scrubbed a hand down his face. He honestly didn't know what to make of any of this. There was a part of him that wanted to sing with joy that Kate Beckett was alive. But there was another part that was deeply conflicted, unsure whether or not he should trust anything that came out of her mouth. She'd spent the last three years living a lie, growing accustom to deception and duplicity.

Castle stared hard at the bathroom door, as if he could glare at her through the solid frame.

Was that woman even Kate Beckett anymore?

He glanced over at his reflection again, this time seeing a forlorn and lovesick man. Castle sighed and closed his eyes, willing the tears away. His chest clenched and he inhaled a deep breath. He still loved her. Damn him, he did. He couldn't help it. He wanted to hate her for doing this to him. The three years without her had been a living hell for him. He'd fallen, returned to a meandering existence of meaningless one-off relationships with women he cared little for. She had destroyed him. Yet, in a strange sort of way, she had also restored him. Just a few weeks ago, the love he still bore for her had given him the encouragement to better himself.

There was positives and negatives on both sides. It was complicated. But life, by its very nature, was complicated. Nothing that was ever truly worthwhile was easy. That was something he'd learn from his time with Kate Beckett.

Castle looked at himself in the mirror once more. There was still so much he didn't know; more he needed to know. And if there was one thing Castle couldn't stand, it was an unfinished story.


	7. Questions and Confessions

Castle returned from the bathroom to discover Kate Beckett right where he had left her, which really didn't surprise him. He hadn't really thought she'd go anywhere. There was still too much to discuss, least of all the elephant in the room that had yet to be brought up. She loved him. And the way she had told him, let him know that she had heard his confession. His heart swelled with joy over the news, but his mind shoved it back down, needing control until he learned the full story. Castle wasn't going to let his heart dominate his actions like it had in the past.

Beckett was sitting on the edge of the bed, still wrapped up in her fluffy bathrobe. Her head was bowed, her blonde hair concealing her face from his wandering gaze. Her hands were in her lap, her fingers nervously twining together as she waited. Castle could practically see the tension radiating off her. It brought him a modicum of comfort to know she was just as anxious as he was.

Deciding to end her misery, Castle cleared his throat to announce his presence.

Beckett's head jerked up and she looked at him with what he could only describe as hopeful eyes. He returned her gaze, staring back, long and hard.

"I have some questions," he finally spoke, his voice a little rough.

"Of course," she bobbed her head, easily acquiescing to his request. "Ask away."

"First, how long have you been back?"

"In New York?"

He nodded.

"Two days," she answered, having the decency to lower her eyes. "Yesterday I was with my Dad. Thanks, by the way, for looking after him, making sure he didn't fall back into drinking. That would have been devastating."

Castle inclined his head in acknowledgement. Truthfully, it had been a team effort. Ryan, Esposito, and Lanie had also looked in on the grieving father. More so the latter than the former duo. Hell, even Josh had stopped by for a couple of months after the closed casket funeral. Now knowing the truth, Castle wondered what had been in that coffin they buried. For his part, spending time with Jim Beckett helped Castle greatly. However, he hadn't visited Jim as often over the last year as he had during those first two years after Beckett's apparent death. The two of them shared a lot during that time. Castle had confessed his feelings for Kate to the elder Beckett. Jim revealed that he'd already known, having suspected as much since their first meeting. And despite the fact she'd been dating another man at the time, Jim Beckett insisted his daughter had felt the same.

"How'd he take it, your sudden… resurrection?" Castle asked, an eyebrow quirking up, curious of the answer.

"Better than I'd hoped, actually," Beckett admitted, playing with her hands in her lap. "He had aged more than I had expected. But still looked in good health. We spent most of the time talking. He wasn't angry. I had thought he'd be mad. Actually, it would have been better if he'd shouted or something like that, but he didn't. He just sat there quietly, listening to me." She sighed. "It was hard. But in the end, I think we managed to make peace with what had happened, much like we had when after he returned from rehab. It'll take some time, but I think we'll move past it. I had to promise to pay for all the soda and hotdogs whenever we go to a ballgame. Lifetime rule, he stipulated." She looked up at him with a half-hearted grin. "I got off way too easy."

"You're his daughter," Castle stated factually. "Believe me, if I'd been in your father's place, I'd probably do the same."

"Yes, yes, of course," she said, inclining her head. "How's Alexis?"

When he didn't answer immediately, she held up a hand in apology.

"Sorry, I know, I have no right to ask," she said, glancing down dejectedly, like she'd lost the most important privilege in the world.

Following a long silence, Castle let out a sigh, moving towards the bed, and, after some hesitation, sat down, closer to her than he'd originally intended. He could tell by her expression that she was surprised. He was himself.

"She's good," he offered. "Though far too serious, for my liking. She's in college now, working hard on her studies." He smiled as he thought of his beloved daughter. "She's doing far better than her old man did, that's for sure. I really wasn't the studious kind."

Beckett let out a snort of laughter. "Yeah, Castle, I'd never guess that."

He glanced at her, his expression an odd combination of puzzled and indignant.

"Sorry," she said, crestfallen. Back before all this, Castle would have taken such jesting from her with glee, having a quick and witty comeback. But not today. Times were different. "Um… what college is she attending, if I may ask?"

"Columbia," Castle replied, puffing his chest out, always the proud father. "She had thought of going to Stanford, but after…" he left the rest unsaid. "Well, suffice it to say, she decided to stay closer to home." He lapsed into silence then, just sitting there, with Beckett beside him. The anxious energy was radiating off her. It was infectious. He was just as edgy.

This was all so surreal.

"I can understand her wanting to do that," Beckett said softly, breaking the silence, speaking from experience. "Even though we drifted apart before he sobered up, I still needed to be close to my dad." She shifted on the bed and glanced up at Castle with large, expressive eyes. "After I saw him, I knew the next person I wanted to see was you."

Castle didn't even bother to hide his surprise at that comment. He felt for sure Beckett would have wanted to see her team again, especially Lanie, at the very least visit the precinct, which had been her figurative home for the majority of her adult life.

"Me?" he questioned, dubious.

"Yes, you," Beckett said, feeling bold and scooting closer to him on the bed. He was so amazed at her statement that he didn't even notice her close proximity until he felt her hand upon his. "And you know why, Castle. I know you heard me."

His jaw dropped, but she shushed him.

"You don't have to say anything right now," she assured. "But if you believe anything I've said tonight, then believe that. I love you. I did back then, and I still do now."

Castle swallowed as he stared down at their hands. He watched, a passenger in his own life, as Beckett tentatively intertwined their fingers until their palms were kissing. Inside he was still conflicted, his mind and heart waging a battle for dominance. He let out a sigh of submission, surrendering to the stirrings of his heart, and squeezed her hand. Despite the conflicting feelings flowing through his mind, Castle couldn't help but allow himself to take some pleasure in the contact. His hand engulfed her smaller one, and he closed his eyes, head still bowed, as he concentrated on his tactile senses to experience the warmth radiating off her, proof that she was very much alive. He shifted his fingers, feeling her pulse, amazed at the rhythm.

"I'm sorry, Castle," she apologized again, voice hollow and insecure. "I know that must sound empty, but it's the truth." She held his hand tightly, bringing it up to clutch it to her chest. He followed the motion with his eyes, continuing up until their gazes locked. "And if you can forgive me, I'd really like to spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

He frowned, the situation making him a little slow on the uptake. It took him a moment longer than under normal circumstances to register the implied meaning behind her words. "You really mean that, don't you?" he questioned, tilting his head slightly as he stared at her, scrutinizing every infinitesimal muscle movement along her perfect facial features.

"Yes, I do," Beckett affirmed, maintaining her hold of his hand over her heart. He could feel it, the rhythmic beat of it. Her eyes dropped for a moment, lingering on his mouth before returning. "I heard you," she said.

He gave her a quizzical look, not entirely certain what she was referring to.

"The day I was shot," she elaborated, clutching his hand tighter. His heart rate doubled. He'd wondered when they would discuss this. He just hadn't expected it so soon. "You surprised me. Yet somehow, I knew. I had always known. I'd just been too stubborn to accept it."

Castle drew in a quick breath, almost like he was reliving that day all over again. "I didn't want you to leave this world without knowing how I felt," he divulged. He swallowed and dropped his head. "Sorry I waited so long, when it was too late."

"Oh, Castle, it wasn't too late," she insisted, letting go of his hand to cup his jaw. She nudged his head back up so that they were once again looking at one another. And just as before all this, they shared so much in that simple look. "Your words, they kept me alive, not just during the operation, but afterwards, when the FBI came and put me into witness protection. Knowing that you… that you love me, gave me hope for the future when it was all done." She paused, and lowered her gaze, worrying her bottom lip. "I know I have no right to ask this, but do I still have that hope?"

He gave her a quizzical look.

"You came here intent on turning Nicole down, am I right?" she asked.

Castle nodded. "Yes," he confirmed. "I really liked her. But now, knowing it was you all the time, I'm not all that surprised. I am surprised, though, that I didn't recognize you immediately. Some observant person I am!"

"You had no reasons to suspect it was me," Beckett protested. "You thought I was dead."

"That I did, yes," Castle bobbed his head. "It took me three years to reach a point where I thought I was ready to move on. To start something new with someone else. But…"

"But what?" she prompted when he fell silent.

Castle drew in a deep breath, and tilted his head up to look at her. "Apparently, I'm not over you. I thought I was, but I'm not."

Beckett offered him a small, tentative smile. "Can you forgive me for deceiving you?"

He stared at her for a long moment, contemplating his answer. By nature, Castle was a forgiving man. However, there were certain offenses that were unforgivable. Meredith cheating on him being a prime example. That had been the last straw. The question posed to him now was whether what Beckett had done was unpardonable. He furrowed his brow as he thought.

From what she'd said, faking her death had not been her choice. That decision had been made for her while she was unconscious. Yes, she'd agreed to go along with it, but that had been after the fact. And he couldn't fault her for being herself, for seizing upon a chance to bring her mother's murderer to justice when an opportunity to do so arose. Because that was the woman he'd fallen in love with. And, in the end, he knew there was no debate when it came to her. There was only ever one answer.

"Yes," he said, flicking his eyes up to meet hers. "It's all a lot to take in, but in the end, yes; I love you enough to forgive you."

" _Love_ ," Kate breathed out, astonished. "Present-tense."

Castle allowed himself to crack a smile. "Yes, Kate," he said, giving in to his desire to touch her as he reached up to cup her jaw. Her eyes immediately closed from the contact and she eased into his touch as the pad of his thumb caressed her cheek. "I love you."

"Oh, Castle," she sighed, canting into him, reaching up to clutch his shoulders. Their foreheads bumped, and she let out a little airy laugh of relief. "I love you, too. So much more than I ever thought possible."

He swallowed, his heart swelling with genuine joy at once again hearing proof that his feelings were not unrequited. There had been times he'd doubted Jim Beckett's words to him, thinking the older man was just trying to console him. But to have the actual woman of his affections declare her adoration was almost like a dream come true.

"You really do, don't you?" he asked, still stunned.

She inclined her head. "It's why I couldn't wait to see you."

"What do you mean?"

Beckett pulled back to look at him. She brought a hand up to brush her hair back from her face, tucking the loose strands behind her ear. "Technically I'm not even supposed to be here," she admitted. "I was granted special dispensation to visit with my father, but other than that I wasn't supposed to leave his apartment."

"Is that why you kept up the Nicole Brennon charade?" he inquired.

She nodded. "Partly, yes," Beckett said. "The man responsible for all of this—my mother's murder, Montgomery's death, my shooting—he's in custody now. But he has allies. And even though it's been a few weeks since they arrested him, some of his associates are still out there and might take issue with what I've done to help bring their boss down. They agreed to my father because he was family."

"So you did it then?" Castle asked. Sometimes he wished he'd never persuaded Esposito into letting him look at that damn file. Doing so had put him in Beckett's doghouse for a little while. But he had worked his way out, regained her trust and friendship. He remembered how Dick Coonan, the man who had been hired to kill her mother, had taken him hostage in an attempt to escape custody. She had shot Coonan to save him. Afterwards, she'd told Castle that she wanted him there when she took down those responsible. And yet, because of this situation, he hadn't been able to do so.

As if reading his thoughts, Beckett reached out and clutched his hands, offering him a reassuring squeeze. "You may not have been with me in person, Castle," she said, "but you still were, in spirit. You were always with me." She let that sink in, before releasing his hands and leaning back. "Did you hear about Bracken?"

Castle jerked his head up, nose wrinkling as he thought. "William Bracken? The senator who was arrested last month?"

Beckett nodded. "It was him," she stated with satisfaction. "He was the Dragon. He was the one behind it all."

"My God," Castle sat back, stunned. "He seemed like such a good guy. Do you know he was going to run for president? Hell, I'd even considered donating to his campaign." He shook his head in astonishment, half muttering to himself, "Thank God I never got around to it."

They sat there in silence for a long couple of minutes as Beckett let Castle absorb the new information. It was a lot to take in. Not only was Kate Beckett—the love of his life—alive, but the man responsible for irrevocably changing her life had finally been brought to justice. Her entire adult life had been shaped by her mother's death. He wondered what she would be like now that that singular driving purpose was gone. Yet still there was more he wanted to know. Three years had passed, and Castle needed to know what had happened during that time.

He could feel her observing him, much like he used to watch her working at her desk in the Twelfth Precinct. He grinned and cocked his head to look at her.

"Tell me," he said abruptly.

She furrowed her brow, confused by his question.

"The story," he elaborated, with a soft smile. "You know how much I like learning the story behind a case."

Beckett nodded, immediately understanding his request. "Okay, I will."


	8. Kate's Story

Three years ago…

_She awoke with a groan, and a sharp pain running down her side. The surgical scar was still healing. It often pulled when she sat up or twisted her torso while shifting in bed. Her physical therapist was pleased with her improvement, saying that she was progressing faster than expected. What the kind woman didn't know was that Kate Beckett had motivation. Her life had been turned upside down, both figuratively and literally._

_Agent Culpepper had shown up at her hospital bed and so calmly informed her that to all the world, save a select few at the U.S. Justice Department and the FBI, she was dead. The thought of her father thinking he'd lost his daughter was gut-wrenching for her. Jim Beckett had struggled so much with losing his wife, Kate didn't even want to think about what her death would do to him._

_"They're going to kill you, Kate. And if you don't care about that, at least think about how that's going to affect the people that love you. You really want to put your dad through that?"_

_Castle's words from their bitter argument resurfaced as she sat up in bed. She sighed, scrubbing her hands down her face. Castle. Her thoughts were preoccupied with him a lot nowadays. With the US Marshals keeping her tucked away in this remote town somewhere in upstate New York, Kate Beckett had little else to do but think, at least when she wasn't working out with the FBI-approved physical therapist._

_The days and weeks had run together since her departure from the hospital. It irritated her that she didn't know how long she'd been gone, away from those she cared about… from those she loved._

_But this had been her choice. Sure, it had initially been forced upon her by Agent Culpepper's rash decision, but she'd signed the consent forms afterwards, which he'd then back dated. Kate didn't like it, but this was her best chance at getting those who were responsible for her mother's death. Despite everything, she couldn't pass on an opportunity like that._

_An image of Castle once again floated across her mind's eye. He was leaning over her, tears in his eyes as he pleaded with her to stay with him. She wanted to respond, but everything was becoming too cold. It was difficult just to keep her eyes open. And then he was telling her that he loved her._

_"Oh, Castle," Kate moaned, not even caring if the agent stationed outside her room heard her. Tears trickled down her cheeks. She wiped at them angrily, determined to get better. The quicker she healed up, then the quicker she could get to work on the case. Agent Culpepper had promised she'd be part of the investigation, and considering everything he'd asked her to sacrifice, he owed her._

XXX

 _Every day was the same: Get up. Shower. Dress. Eat. Crash on the couch, binge watching either_ Temptation Lane _or_ Nebula 9 _. Eat again. Go to sleep. And repeat. She had nothing to do except wait for news about the investigation, news that rarely came. She had to do something to keep her mind occupied, otherwise she'd go stir-crazy thinking about the life she'd sacrificed for an obsession that wasn't proving very fruitful at the moment. She hated it. Kate Beckett wasn't very good at being helpless._

_For the first couple of months since they relocated her to Nebraska with a new identity, a deputy from the US Marshals would come and visit her twice a week. It had been a year since her shooting, and she was still stuck, kept away from her life and friends… her loved ones. Her Dad. She hoped beyond hope that he was faring well. Somedays she despised herself for allowing Culpepper to talk her into putting her Dad in that position, thinking his daughter had been killed. But then she remembered the end goal, and she hoped to God that the end would justify the means._

_And then there was Richard Castle. She thought of him often, wondering what he was doing, if he still helped Ryan and Esposito on cases. At least he was still writing._

_She wasn't allowed to go on the internet yet, but they did allow her a newspaper. She'd recently read that the next book in the Nikki Heat series_ , Frozen Heat _, was due to come out soon. She wanted to buy it. They'd been kind enough to acquire a copy of_ Heat Rises _for her while she had still been tucked away in that safe house in upstate New York, but it had been a paperback. Kate wanted_ Frozen Heat _in hardback. She wanted to go out to a bookstore and get it herself. She missed the simple mundane pleasure of meandering around a local bookshop and waiting in line to purchase a brand new book._

_It was a Wednesday when Deputy US Marshal Samantha Ramirez—her handler—dropped by to check in on her._

_"I want a job," Kate announced._

_Ramirez looked at her for a long moment, putting her hands on her hips. Out of all the witnesses she'd supervised over her career, Katherine Beckett had been the most difficult, and considering 95% of the witnesses in the program were what some might call criminals, that was saying something._

_"Kate, we talked about this before," Ramirez said, talking like she was speaking to a petulant child. "The head office thinks it's too risky. We may have moved you out of the immediate danger zone, but you know better than most what we're up against."_

_Kate stood her ground. She wasn't going to budge this time. The Feds had completely uprooted her life, most likely devastated her family and friends, and had kept her in the dark about the massive case that she was supposedly a critical part of. Agent Culpepper had yet to visit her since her relocation to Nebraska._

_"I'm going stir-crazy in here, Sam," Kate persisted. "You guys dumped me here with a modest stipend, force me to dye my hair blonde and wear glasses, so that when I go out to get groceries or clothes I'm not as easily recognized. By whom!? I'm in the middle of nowhere Nebraska! I've never been here. No one here even knows who I am."_

_"You're Nicole Brennon," Ramirez insisted, staring hard at her charge. "You taught English at a community college in Pennsylvania before moving here to escape an abusive ex-boyfriend. We worked up your background so that it would fit with the necessities of you keeping a low profile."_

_"I don't fucking care about any of that!" Kate snapped, growing agitated. "My entire life has been stolen from me. I've been ripped away from the people I love. I was made promises; promises that have yet to be kept. The least you could do is allow me some modicum of freedom to salvage the life I do have left because of you."_

_Ramirez shifted on her feet and glanced down at the laminated flooring in the small kitchen. "All right," she conceded. "I'll discuss it with my superiors. We'll come up with some ideas and I'll get back to you on Friday. Satisfied?"_

_Kate crossed her arms and gave a curt nod. "For now, yes."_

_XXX_

_She was now Nicole Brennon, librarian. It wasn't all that exciting of a job, but at least it kept her busy. Plus, she loved to read, and now she had access to hundreds of books. Her old life hadn't really provided her with a lot of down time to read, so she took advantage of that now, devouring the masterpieces of the literary greats, the pulp fiction classics, and, of course, her favorite mysteries. The works of a certain ruggedly handsome mystery novelist were always on her reading list._

_With her new income, she acquired a new Richard Castle collection, and would fastidiously read from one of his many books each night before going to bed. But she adored Nikki Heat most of all. She re-read them often. With the exception of_ Heat Rises _, every book in the Nikki Heat series was dedicated to her. It touched her deeply, that even though he thought she was dead, he still dedicated each new book in the series to her._

_Per the wishes of her Federal handlers, she kept mostly to herself, not making too many friends. She allowed herself one close friend, Jill Kemp, her co-worker. Kate hated having to lie about most of her past life to Jill, but besides that she enjoyed the camaraderie she shared with the woman, who also happened to be a big fan of Richard Castle. Kate wished she could reveal the fact that she was the inspiration for Nikki Heat, if just to see her friend's shocked expression. Nicole Brennon was so very much different than Kate Beckett had been. She was quite literally living a different life._

_It had been over 2 years since her life had been ripped away from her, and Kate Beckett had given up hope of ever returning back to it. Jill kept pestering her about dating, but Kate repeatedly turned down the offer. Jill's insistence that she find herself a man, reminded Kate of Lanie. She missed her best friend, as well as her colleagues in the Twelfth Precinct, Detectives Javier Esposito and Kevin Ryan. But most of all, she missed her Dad… and Richard Castle._

_At night, when she was alone, it would hit her the hardest. He had loved her. And she'd known it, yet chose to ignore it. And only now did she realize how much time she'd wasted in not acknowledging her own feelings, at hiding behind walls and trivial excuses. He'd been right when he said she hid in nowhere relationships with men she didn't love. She had liked Josh, a lot. But she didn't love him. Now she knew that he was just a placeholder until she could accept her feelings for another man… for Castle._

_Kate Beckett would give anything to have a second chance to get things right. She didn't want to look back at her life and think… if only._

_It was a Saturday afternoon when Agent Brent Culpepper unexpectedly reentered her life. He came bearing boxes filled with files on a political Super PAC called 'Future Forward'. According to Culpepper, Future Forward was part of a money laundering operation._

_"Why now?" she asked when he finished the debriefing, glaring at him angrily. He'd made her promises. And he had failed to deliver. She was none too happy with him. Culpepper, however, did not cower under her stare like the harden criminals she'd once faced in the interrogation box back at the Twelfth Precinct. He simply stood there, gazing back lackadaisically, waiting patiently for her to move on. She growled, "After all this time, why involve me_ now _in your investigation?"_

_Culpepper opened one of the boxes and skimmed through its contents before removing one particular file. "Because you know one of the players," he said, dropping the folder down on the dining room table. "Vulcan Simmons."_

_XXX_

_It was fast approaching the third anniversary of Kate Beckett's death and the birth of Nicole Brennon, when Agent Culpepper once again showed up at her home in Nebraska with two boxes of new evidence._

_"Did you hear about Ben Moss?" he asked as he set the boxes down on the kitchen table._

_"Yeah, I remember something about that on the evening news last night," she said, busy starting the coffeemaker. "Why do you ask?"_

_Culpepper offered her a wiry grin, and told her to sit down. He then proceeded to fill her in on the developments over the last few weeks. After months of hard working investigating the Super PAC, Culpepper and his team had finally uncovered the board of directors of the nefarious organization behind Future Forward. Ben Moss, a big wig amongst party elders, also dubbed 'the kingmaker', was found complicit in an attempted assassination of a United States Senator._

_Under interrogation, hoping for leniency, Moss revealed the esteemed Senator from New York, who was a potential candidate for president, was not so honorable. After much questioning, Moss gave up his cohorts in the criminal enterprise behind the Super PAC Future Forward. As it turned out, William Bracken, the targeted senator, was part of the clandestine organization's top brass. Apparently, Bracken had been part of a group trying to oust Moss from the leadership._

_Kate took a sip of her coffee after Culpepper had finished his recap of the case. "How does this involve me?"_

_"Now, not that this is reliable of anything, considering the source," Culpepper explained, "but Moss insists Bracken was in on some shady dealings back in the 1990s. You see, Bracken was an Assistant D.A. at the time your former captain and his colleagues were running their ransom racket. According to Moss, Bracken somehow learned of their illegal activities and blackmailed them, using their money to help fund his first Congressional campaign."_

_Kate sat up straight, recalling her last conversation with her mentor. "Montgomery mentioned something like that before he died," she said. It still hurt a little when she thought of her former captain and his betrayal. But in the end, he tried to do the right thing. He made his stand and chose his battle. "He mentioned something about someone figuring out what they'd done. But instead of turning them in, he demanded the money." Her brow furrowed as she stared at the surface of the kitchen table. "Roy said that his greatest sin was that that man took their money and became what he was."_

_Culpepper nodded, having listened to her summation silently. "And you think Bracken could be this mystery man?"_

_"It makes sense, don't you think?"_

_The FBI agent just sat there, thinking. Kate waited, watching him. She missed building theory with Castle. Their back and forth was invigorating and… arousing. If Castle was here with her, she was positive they'd have a lead to work by now._

_"It's something to work with, yes," Culpepper said after a lengthy pause. "Moss did mention something about a tape recording that implicated Bracken in an unsolved homicide."_

_"My mother?"_

_"Possibly," Culpepper allowed. "But we need to investigate further. It might behoove us look into your former captain's files, see if he left anything behind that could help." He finished off his cup of coffee and stood. "In the meantime, I'll leave these with you. Maybe you can find something amongst Moss's files that we missed."_

_"Agent Culpepper," Kate called after him. He turned and looked back at her. She offered him a small smile. "Thanks… for finally including me in all this. It really means a lot."_

_He nodded. "It's the least I could do. In all honesty, there is no way we could ever properly repay you for what we've asked you to sacrifice." He paused, letting that sink in. "Good afternoon, Beckett." And then he left._

_XXX_

_Kate Beckett stared at the mirror, examining her reflection. She wondered if they'd recognize her with the blonde hair. After spending almost three years as Nicole Brennon, she'd grown used to it. However, she still missed her natural coloring. Cocking her head, she knitted her eyebrows together as she scrutinized her appearance. Perhaps she'd keep it, just for a while. If things went as she hoped they would, then Kate would allow him to make the deciding vote. She owed him so much, and if he wanted her to be blonde, then she'd be blonde. She'd do anything to gain his forgiveness, and his love._

_It was almost over. Culpepper and his team were arresting Senator William Bracken tomorrow morning. Kate felt an overwhelming sense of relief that it would soon be over. In the end, Montgomery had redeemed himself. Three weeks ago, while Kate had been reviewing some of his old files, a long forgotten memory had been triggered._

_She'd been a young rookie, breaking the rules to look at her mother's murder case. Montgomery had stumbled upon her in the records room. She had expected him to report her. But instead he encouraged her. He said if the case was closed, the answers wouldn't be in the file. He said things about her mother's murder she didn't understand at the time, but he specifically mentioned a cassette recording. And that reminded her of the old tape recorder her mother used when she interviewed clients._

_"I need to look at my mother's files," Kate had told Culpepper when he'd stopped by to check on her progress with Montgomery's documents._

_Agent Culpepper had flashed her a confused expression. "You already have all the relevant files pertaining to her case."_

_"No," Kate had shaken her head. "Her work files, from when she was practicing law. I need to see her notes."_

_Culpepper was puzzled by her request, but he still complied, delivering her mother's old case notes to her, along with some other requested items. Amongst the contents in the box he'd sent was the ceramic parade of elephants that had once adorned her desk in the Twelfth Precinct. It came with a note from Culpepper: "I remembered you mentioning missing some personal items. Thought you'd like to have this back." It had been rather thoughtful of the FBI agent. He was usually all business, so it surprised her._

_Kate supposed he could have been feeling guilty about getting her into this situation. And how long it had taken him to finally include her in the investigations. Whatever the reason, Kate was grateful to have a reminder of her old life. It was a bittersweet feeling, but it helped to remind her what she was fighting for._

_She had set it aside, turning her attention back to her mother's old files. But as Kate rummaged through the box, she had accidentally knocked the parade of elephants off the table. It had clattered down to the kitchen floor, a section of it popping off, revealing a hidden compartment, and a mini-cassette tape within._

_And that was it. By complete accident, Kate had uncovered the missing evidence that would put the man responsible for her mother's death behind bars._

_Now, with the arrest set to occur tomorrow morning, Kate Beckett was preparing herself for the immense challenge of returning to her former life. She didn't expect it to be easy, or for things to be the same, but she did look forward to being herself once again. She was worried about how her father would handle it. Thankfully, Deputy Ramirez had kept her up to date on Jim Beckett, and Kate was relieved to know he hadn't slipped back into the bottle. She was extremely grateful to whomever had look after him while she was gone. She owed that person a lot. And she had her suspicions as to who it could be. Kate hoped she was right. Because that person was very important to her._

_Kate nodded at her reflection. She was ready. Just a few more weeks, and she would finally be able to go home._


	9. Love Me Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of this chapter does tip-toe the line between T and M. Personally, I think it's vague enough to keep an overall T rating for the fic as a whole, but I did put a chapter break (the "XXX" I generally use) when the chapter turns towards the more M-Rated content. You won't miss any relevant story if you want to skip it. Thanks, and enjoy. :)

"You're staring," he whispered.

Beckett smirked. "Sorry, is it too creepy?"

"No, it's fine," he asserted with a twinkle in his eyes.

"What are you thinking?" she asked, her eyes roaming over his face as she tried to gauge his reaction to her retelling of the last three years.

Castle shifted on the bed, staring at her. "What's next?"

Beckett shrugged her shoulders, raking her fingers through her blonde hair. "Honestly, I don't know," she shifted closer to him, tentatively placing a hand on his arm. "I was hoping you'd help me figure that out."

He quirked up an eyebrow at that statement, sensing what she really wanted. It hadn't been lost on him that she'd been ready to seduce him as Nicole Brennon when he first arrived. He could still vividly recall the sight of her lounging on the bed in nothing but black lingerie that left very little to the imagination. Castle had never seen so much of Beckett's naked flesh, except for that one time her apartment blew up and he'd busted down the door, braving fire and falling debris to save her. He had caught a glimpse of her lithe body then, just enough to fuel his fantasies for several months.

"Can I ask you a question?" he asked, brow furrowing.

"Of course," she inclined her head, withdrawing her hand from his arm. He instantly missed her touch.

"Would you have told me?" he inquired.

Beckett cocked her head and frowned.

"If I hadn't turned you down when I arrived," Castle elaborated, noticing her perplexed expression. "Would you have told me? Or would you have simply continued playing the part of Nicole Brennon as we… well, _you know_." He ended the sentence with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.

"Yes, I'd have told you," she declared without needing to think it over. "I wouldn't have been ready for _more_ if I hadn't planned on revealing my true identity. But I had hoped you would have figured it out before it got that far. I didn't like deceiving you."

He nodded, accepting her statement. "What about before?"

"When?"

"At the party," Castle said. "You introduced yourself as Nicole Brennon. I know what you said before, about the danger still out there, but why continue it when it was just you and me at the bar? Afraid I'd make a scene?"

"Honestly, a little, yes," Beckett answered, giving him a pointed look. "You're not exactly known for your subtlety, Castle."

He huffed defensively and adjusted his suit jacket. "I get it from my mother."

"I know," she said with a muted smile. "But it wasn't just that, Castle. I was being selfish."

"How so?"

"It had been three years, Castle," Beckett lowered her head, shamefaced at her selfishness. She pursed her lips and swallowed, before raising her eyes up to once again meet his gaze. "A lot can change in three years. I really shouldn't have expected anything, but still there was a part of me that was curious. You might have moved on. And if you had, and were happy, then I didn't want to mess that up. All I want is for you to be happy. And I didn't want to ruin that for you if you were." She paused and took a deep breath, averting her eyes. "I read the papers, Castle, and you popped up in the gossip section more than a few times, quite often with a bimbo on your arm."

Castle shifted on the bed, cocking his head as he looked at her. "I won't lie," he said firmly. "I didn't exactly take your death well. I fell back on some old behaviors, a coping mechanism I developed as a young man when everyone I loved seemed to leave me. I did it when Kyra left, and when Meredith cheated on me. So," he shrugged his shoulders, "I embraced the playboy role a little too much. Look, I'm not proud of how I acted. I want more than meaningless flings. But after your… well, I just couldn't allow myself to get attached, so it seemed the best alternative. It's not who I am, Kate. Not really. I've been trying to—"

Beckett placed a hand on his shoulder to shush him. "You don't need to explain anything me, Castle," she assured. "I don't blame you. And I certainly am not judging you."

He cast a skeptical look in her direction.

"Truly," she insisted, giving him a little reassuring smile. "I know, in the past, I did _sort of_ judge you for that behavior."

" _Sort of_?" he snorted.

"All right," she sighed, holding up both hands in surrender. "I _did_ judge you. But that was then. This is now. And _now_ I am not judging you."

After a long pause, Castle inclined his head in acceptance. "Okay," he said. He licked his lips nervously as he stared at her. "So, um… what were you planning for tonight?"

"What do you mean?" she questioned, innocently.

Castle gestured to her, reminding her that all she was wearing was a bathrobe with nothing much else underneath. "When I walked in you were sprawled out on the bed, very alluring might I add," he waggled his eyebrows. Beckett bit her lower lip and blushed. "You can't tell me you hadn't planned, or at least hoped, for more than just this talk."

Beckett nodded, her cheeks an adorable shade of pink. "You got me, yes," she confirmed with an anxious laugh. "I was hoping to soften the blow by offering you my body."

He harrumphed at that. "Now be honest, Kate."

Her mirth seemed to disappear at the use of her first name. Beckett looked at him with large, luminous eyes. "The truth then?"

"That would be nice."

"I want you, Castle," she said, her voice filled with such firm conviction and sincerity that it amazed him. "After three years, the first thought that came to me when I was told I'd eventually be able to come home and return to my life was that I wanted you. I love you, Richard Castle. And… and I just want you."

Castle stared at her in complete awe. Kate Beckett loved him. It was the truth. There was no denying it. He could see it in her eyes, in the way her body seemed to lean towards him even now. He licked his lips anxiously and he noticed her eyes jerk down ever so slightly to observe the motion before returning to meet his gaze.

"This isn't a 'I just return from the dead and want to relish being alive' sort of thing, is it?" he asked, holding up a hand to stop anything before it could begin. He wanted to make things very clear before they did anything. "Because, Kate, if we do this, you have to know… I am all in. I love you, Kate. This— _you_ —are it for me."

Beckett nodded. "Me too," she declared. "I've never been more sure about anything in my entire life. I want you. I love you, Castle. Always."

The use of that word— _their word_ —was enough to convince him. This time it was Castle's turn to kiss her. He cupped her jaw in his palm and leaned in, slanting his lips over hers. She immediately responded with a little gasp, granting him access to the delicious warmth of her mouth. He kissed her hard, with all the passion and desire he'd carried with him for so long. Her hands came up to rest on his shoulders, fingers coiling tightly into the fabric of his jacket.

He pulled back, breathing heavily and looked at her.

"I'm still angry," he let her know. "And we still have a lot to discuss."

She nodded understandingly. "I know."

"But for now," he went on, and then smirked mischievously, his eyes twinkling with anticipation and excitement, "I think I'll just have to punish you."

"Naked punishing?" Beckett questioned, optimistically.

Castle bobbed his head. "Very naked punishing," he confirmed with a wolfish grin.

Beckett beamed, looking radiant and happy. He'd never seen her so happy. It made his heart swell to know it was because of him. Castle leaned in again to capture her mouth, kissing her deeply. It was still so surreal. Kate Beckett was alive, and he was kissing her. It was like a dream come true. She hummed into his mouth, clutching at his suit jacket, yanking at it. He leaned back long enough to shrug out of it before descending back down her on her delectable lips. Now that he'd tasted her, Castle couldn't get enough.

As they traded saliva, her fingers made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, nimbly unfastening each one with deft ease. When he broke away from her mouth, Beckett started to protest, but then stopped as he began nibbling soft kisses along her jaw and throat, coaxing these delightful little noises out of her. Castle worked his hand down her side to the sash around her waist. He tugged until it came free. The robe parted down the middle and Castle hurriedly slipped a curious hand inside.

Beckett let out a low moan when he sprawled his palm out across her flat stomach. Her flesh was warm and soft, eager for his touch. Slowly, he worked his mouth back up the column of her throat, nipping and teasing along the way. She turned to meet him, ramming her mouth back against his. Everything about their embrace was intense. Castle almost felt dizzy from it.

They pulled away for air, both breathing heavily. Castle grinned at her, kicking his shoes off and hastily undoing the cufflinks so he could work his arms out of the sleeves. Beckett sat up next to him and eagerly helped him remove his shirt, taking the opportunity to caress and squeezed his exposed biceps.

With his shirt tossed carelessly to the floor, Castle renewed his assault on Beckett's mouth. She responded in kind, kissing him frantically like she'd been wandering the desert, parched for thirst, and he was an ocean. Beckett wasted no time in divesting herself of the bathrobe, rewarding him with the glorious sight of her in nothing but lacy black lingerie. She clutched his shoulders and moved before he could stop her, swinging one leg over him until she was straddling his lap. She arched her back, descending down on him, sucking on his lower lip as her fingertips dragged down his bare chest.

Castle could feel his body responding. Beckett could feel it as well. She growled with lust and bucked her hips against him, making him groan. He grabbed her head in his large hands and distracted her with his tongue. After rendering her incoherent, Castle took command and flipped them around until he was hovering over her. Beckett wiggled her hips intoxicatingly beneath, mewling softly like a cat. He dropped his head to her neck, and sucked, leaving his mark.

Pulling back, supporting his weight with his arms, Castle gazed down at her. Beckett's hair was fanned out around her head against the mattress, giving her a golden halo. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips kiss-swollen. Her eyes fluttered open and she gazed up at him with undisguised want.

"What do you think of my blonde hair?" she asked breathlessly. "I can keep it this way, if you like."

"No," he shook his head, running his hand down her side, relishing the feel of her soft, pliable body under his fingertips. "I like your natural coloring."

"Good," she asserted with a decisive nod. "So do I."

Castle stared, mesmerized. He trailed a hand back up her side, pausing when he felt the raised scar there. Beckett froze, biting her lower lip, stricken with uncertainty and diffidence. Noticing her sudden lack of confidence, Castle moved his hand further up, teasing the underside of her lace-covered breast in an attempt to draw her mind away from such thoughts. He wanted her to know that he didn't care what scars she held. She would always be the most beautiful woman in the world, even when they were both old and gray.

His eyes, which had remained locked with hers, finally dropped, taking in the swell of her breasts as her chest heaved with each breath. That's when he noticed it. It was very faint, but still visible; a pucker mark, just between her breasts. His eyes flicked back to hers, and he saw all the worry and insecurity she held.

"I don't care," Castle spoke confidently. "It's you. I want all of you, scars and all." He placed both hands along her side, holding her steady as he bent down and pressed his lips to that spot on her chest.

Beckett let out a choking sob of relief and gratitude. Her fingers snagged in his hair, pulling him up for another deep kiss. When they broke apart, Beckett shifted restlessly and let out an uneasy laugh. "I don't know why I'm so nervous," she said, shaking her head.

He smiled. "You don't have to be, Kate, I'm here, and I love you," he assured, rubbing his hand up and down her side to soothe her.

She nodded, still squirming a little under him. "Just… I might be a little rusty," Beckett divulged. "It's been over three years since I've done this. I… I just… you've made it no secret you've been fantasizing about this for years. I don't want to disappoint you."

"Kate," Castle said, shaking his head. " _You_ , as you are now, are better than any fantasy I could ever come up with." And then he silenced any more protestations she might have with a passionate kiss.

XXX

Beckett smiled up at him, shifting around so she could reach behind her back and unclasp her bra. Castle gently nudged the straps down her shoulders and pulled the lacy material from her body. He cupped her in his hand, teasing with his thumb as he kissed his way down the column of her throat. He nipped at her collarbones, coaxing more little noises from her that inflamed him. Beckett raked her fingers down his back and cupped his ass, squeezing. She moved her hands around to his front, working on his belt buckle while he worshiped her breasts, sucking and kissing her soft flesh.

After unfastening his belt, Beckett gently nudged Castle back until he was sitting up on his haunches. She arched up, following until she was sitting on the bed in front of him. Castle breathed heavily, staring down at her chest. Beckett grinned saucily as she popped the button and tugged the zipper down. She then hooked her fingers under the waistband of his slacks, pulling them down off his hips, taking his boxers with them. Beckett let out a low moan when she saw him.

He grinned cockily. "Told you."

"Shut up," she groused, silencing him with a gentle squeeze of her fingers. She leaned up and kissed him as she stroked him to full standing.

Firm and ready, Castle gently shoved her back down to the mattress, fully divesting himself of his slacks and boxers. She lay there watching with eager anticipation as he smoothed his hands up and down her long legs. Her skin was silky soft under his touch. She was everything he'd wanted and more. Castle bent over her, pressing a kiss to her stomach, before reaching for her panties. He curled his fingers around the lacy fabric and dragged them down her mile-long legs.

Beckett purred softly as he trailed his hands back up her legs. She rolled her hips, opening for him. He inhaled a quick breath, seeing her for the first time. He wanted to taste her, to bring her to ecstasy with nothing but his talented tongue. However, judging by her pleading eyes, that could wait for another time. Castle climbed back up her squirming body, touching and kissing all the exposed flesh. She was gorgeous, and he let her know that.

She wiggled under him, cradling his hips in her legs as he settled over her. Her hand reached between them to guide him to her. He groaned, feeling how wet and ready she was for him. Castle opened his eyes and gazed down at the beauty beneath him, lovingly combing his fingers through her luxurious golden locks, imagining how she'd look once she was restored to her natural coloring.

It was no secret Castle liked blondes. But with Kate, he preferred her as she was. Her brunette strands had been short and choppy when they first met, with a hint of red. It had been cute. But as their partnership grew, so had her hair. She'd been breathtaking. She still was. Always would be in his eyes.

"Castle," she cooed softly, caressing the side of his face as her whole body seemed to vibrate with anticipation underneath him. "Stop thinking, and make love to me."

He didn't need to be told twice. Adjusting his hips, he pushed forward. Beckett opened for him, warm and inviting. And without further preamble, Castle slid home.


	10. Counting Stars

He saw a flash in the distance. It was distracting. He was trying to focus on Beckett, listening to her give the eulogy for her fallen captain. She had talked about how Captain Montgomery had once told her that in their line of work there were only battles. And that in the end, the best any of them could hope for was to find a place to make their stand. Adding that if they were really lucky, they would find someone to stand with them. At that point, Beckett had cast a sidelong glance towards him. Castle couldn't shake the look of longing in her eyes. It was like she was trying to tell him something; apologize for the harsh words they'd exchanged during that fight in her apartment.

But then that flash of light caught his eyes again.

Castle blinked and narrowed his eyes, squinting into the distance, trying to discern what it was. And then it hit him. He'd been here before. It was a sniper's scope glinting in the sunlight. Not wasting another second thinking it over, Castle jumped into action. He dove across the grass for Beckett, colliding with her as a shot rang out across the cemetery.

They fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs. She let out a curse as he landed on top of her. He stayed there, hovering above her, groping around for any wounds or injuries. But there was none. Beckett hadn't been hit. The sniper had missed. She stared up at him, shocked and stunned.

He'd done it.

He'd saved her.

This time he wasn't too late.

"Castle?" Beckett questioned, brow furrowing as she gazed up at him.

"You're alive," he gasped, astonished.

"Yeah, I'm alive," she gave him a confused look. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said. "I'm great, Kate." He laughed throatily, in pure joy. "I love you. I love you, Kate."

Her eyes went wide and then, before he could stop himself, he was cradling the back of her head in his palm and leaning down to kiss her.

Rick Castle awoke with start.

He blinked his eyes, startled by the sudden shift in what normally would have been a nightmare. He glanced around, a little disoriented. He was in a hotel room. That much wasn't entirely unusual these days, though he had planned on ceasing such occurrences. The room was silent, save for the soft sounds of his bed companion breathing in her slumber.

Castle pursed his lips and frowned, disappointed in himself. He thought he would have had better resolve in cleaning up his act. Scrubbing a hand down his face, he willed himself to move. He shifted, ever so slightly, not wanting to wait the woman beside him, rolling onto his side to gaze upon his latest mistake.

She was lying on her side, facing away from him. Of course, she was blonde. He sighed. What was wrong with him? His eyes trailed up and down her gloriously naked body. She was gorgeous, there was no denying that. At least he still had good taste. But this had been a mistake. He'd decided to stop this behavior. Castle wanted a real relationship. And one night stands with airy blonde bimbos wasn't going to get him that.

As if sensing his wakefulness, the blonde moved, adjusting her position on top of the mattress, gracing him with the sight of her perfect pert breasts. He groaned inwardly as he gazed down at her chest, feeling his lower body respond to the deliciously erotic sight of a beautiful naked woman spread gloriously out in front of him. Her skin was glistening, still slick and sweaty from their previous activity. But as his eyes skimmed along her torso, he stopped, noticing that her perfect skin was marred by a pucker mark between her breasts.

That was when it all flashed back to him. Castle's head jerked up as the fog of sleep receded. He recalled the events of the evening. He'd been attending the launch party for _Raging Heat_. He'd met a beautiful blonde at the bar. She had left a key card for him, hoping he'd follow her to her room. He had. And that's when he learned that Nicole Brennon was actually Kate Beckett. The truth came out, and she had explained it all to him. And then, a lazy smile spread across his face, they made love.

Flirting his eyes back down at the deliciously naked woman lying next to him on the bed, Castle eased closer. He raised a hand and gently traced unseen patterns along her smooth skin. Cocking his head to the side, he shifted his gaze to her face, smiling softly at how adorable Kate Beckett looked when she was asleep. His fingertips brushed along the marred patch of skin, and Castle turned his attention back to her chest. He scooted closer to her, and then lowered his head to brush a kiss just above her heart.

The action caused her to stir from her slumber. Beckett let out an appreciative hum at the sight of him nuzzling her breasts. He grinned into her flesh, and teased her with a few quick flicks of his tongue, before retreating. He sat up, and stared down at her as she slowly woke. She arched her back and stretched her legs, a little groan escaping her lips as her body recalled the vigorous activities it had been engaged in an hour or so ago.

Beckett languidly licked her lips and blinked her eyes, tilting her head against the pillows as she stared up at him, a mix of awe and wonder held in her gaze. "So," she stifled a yawn. "It wasn't a dream."

"No," Castle shook his head, grinning delightedly, trailing his fingers up and down her side. "It wasn't a dream."

"Good," Beckett declared, beaming with pure happiness. "I was worried it wasn't real. But," she shifted her hips, "Oh, yes… it was most definitely real."

"If you still have any doubts, I'm more than willing to provide an encore performance," Castle asserted with a waggle of his eyebrows, earning a giggling laugh from Beckett. He stared at her, in awe of how light and free she appeared now. She was so very unlike the uptight and stern detective he'd met all those years ago at a different launch party.

"You liked it then?" she asked, biting her lower lip, uncharacteristically shy.

Castle bobbed his head enthusiastically. "Yes, yes. It was...," his voice trailed off as he tried to find an appropriate word to describe what they'd just done.

"Amazing," Beckett supplied.

"Better than amazing," Castle insisted.

Her lips quirked upwards. "You'll hear no complaints from me," she asserted.

Castle bent down to press his lips to hers. He'd already gone far too long without kissing her. Beckett hummed into his mouth, wrapping her arms around him, pulling his body back down on top of hers. He groaned as her legs moved and wrapped around his hips. Within moments, the world was spinning and he was on his back with an enchanting Kate Beckett sitting astride him.

"I'm not done with you yet, Richard Castle," Beckett proclaimed, sitting back on her knees and reaching between them to grab hold of him. She positioned him at her entrance. "We have three years to make up for." And then she sank down on him, engulfing him in her love.

XXX

"I don't want morning to come," Beckett let out a sigh as she snuggled closer to him, dropping her head down onto his shoulder. She stared straight ahead, absently drumming her fingers against his chest. "I just wanna stay right here with you."

They were back in bed after another round—their fourth of the evening—in the shower, curled up, enjoying the fruits of their pleasure. Never once in his entire life had Castle ever felt more sexually satisfied than he did now, here with Beckett. She was needy, and wasn't shy about hiding it. He was the beneficiary of three long years of pent up desire that was now finally being unleashed. She was completely voracious, always needing to touch him, feel him, kiss him. She wouldn't let go of him. And, at the moment, Castle was more than willing to comply with those needs.

But soon they would both need to return to reality. The bubble would burst, and real life would beckon. There was still so much to discuss, to atone for. As much as he wished, Castle couldn't bask in the afterglow indefinitely.

"It'll be fine," he attempted to assure her. "I know it will be difficult, but that's where you shine, Kate." He paused, pursing his lips, knitting his brow together as he mulled over his next words. "Do you remember what I said to you in LA?"

She nodded against his chest, releasing a warm breath. "That I was a mystery you'd never solve," she recited. "That even after all the time you'd known me, you were still amazed at the depth of my strength, my heart… and my hotness." She smothered her smile into the crook of his neck.

"Hmm, not sure about that last one," Castle teased, earning a look from Beckett. She pinched his side for that, causing him to yelp. She immediately apologized, cooing softly as she soothed the abused spot. "You're tenacious, you know that?"

"Only with your encouragement," she said.

"No," he shook his head, gently nudging her back so he could sit up. She frowned, glancing up at him in question. "You were always extraordinary, long before I entered the picture. All I did was help coax you out of your shell."

"Castle, no," Beckett protested, sitting up and not even bothering to cover herself as the sheet fell away. Castle was amazed at his restraint. It was so very difficult not to allow his eyes drift down. "You are selling yourself short. You did so much more than that. Yes, I was good at my job. But, Castle, I wasn't having any fun before you."

Castle swallowed, allowing his eyes to finally drift down to her naked chest, staring intently at the mark that marred her otherwise perfect skin. "But I got you shot," he choked out. "If I hadn't started digging into your mother's case, none of this would have happened. It's all my fault."

"Bullshit!" she growled. "Don't you dare blame yourself, Richard Castle." She grabbed his face in her hands, tilting it up so that he was looking into her eyes. "Listen to me. This. Is. Not. Your. Fault."

"Kate…"

"No," she interrupted, fierce and unrelenting. "Don't say it. Never say it." She took a deep breath, and softened, dropping her hands to her lap. "If we'd never met, it still would have happened. I might not have been actively looking into it, but you know me, Castle, better than most. Eventually I would have dug it back up and all this would still have happened." She paused for a breath, and then looked at him with almost pleading eyes. "So, trust me, when I say, this was not your fault."

He stared at her for a long beat before answering. "Okay," he surrendered to her reasoning. She was always so very persuasive.

"Good," she nodded, decisively. Beckett cupped his jaw and leaned forward to kiss him. "Good."

Castle shook his head and let out a little laugh.

"What?"

He looked at her with a small smile. "Just… this is all a little overwhelming," he tried to explain. "This is not where I expected to be tonight."

Beckett's brow furrowed as she gazed at him hesitantly. She dropped her head, and fiddled with her hands in her lap, before sucking in a quick breath and meeting his eyes. "Any regrets?" she asked.

Castle narrowed his eyes as he contemplated the question. "No," he asserted, turning to look at her. "Not really. Only…"

"Yes?" she encouraged when his voice trailed off.

"Only that this," he gestured between them, "didn't happened sooner."

Beckett nodded, agreeing, raking her fingers through her blonde hair. It still was a little surreal, seeing her with blonde hair. He was looking forward to the day her natural coloring returned. "I know," she said. "And I'm so sorry for that. Things have never been easy with us."

He nodded thoughtfully. "The most worthwhile things in life are often the most difficult."

That caused her to smile brightly. It was a beautiful thing, her smile. Castle wanted to spend the rest of his life making her smile. She leaned forward to kiss him. Castle reached up to cup her jaw as their lips met. It was sublime. It was like the room had erupted. That was because there had been an explosion, of sorts. A small bullet-sized hole had penetrated the elaborate mahogany headboard, causing splinters to fly outward upon impact. If Beckett hadn't leaned forward to kiss him…

Before Castle could finish that thought, Beckett was wrapping him up in her arms and rolling them off the side of the bed. Just as they cleared the mattress, several more shots struck the bed, spawning a number of foam puffs to spray into the air above them. The window shattered, and glass shards burst out into the room. The wind rushed in, howling like a beast.

"Kate—?"

"Castle, stay down," Beckett hissed, pressing her body over his to keep him in place.

He clutched at her, holding her close, shuddering in fear that he'd lose her all over again. But her panting breaths and the warmth of her body over his told him she was alive. They were both still naked, completely exposed. Castle was trying his best to stay calm, watching Beckett for instruction. She jerked her head around, searching for an escape, but found none. Their best bet was to stay huddled behind the bed, hoping the mattress would cushion any more shots.

The wall above them exploded and plaster littered down on top of their vulnerable bodies. Beckett curled over him, trying to protect him. Castle closed his eyes, feeling utterly useless. He'd had three years to relive the events at the cemetery, and now that he had a redo, he was failing miserably.

After what seemed like an eternity, the shots ceased. Castle strained his ears, listening for clues to when the assault would resume. "Is he reloading?" he asked, quietly, proud that his voice didn't waver.

Beckett narrowed her eyes, listening intently. "No," she shook her head. "I don't think so."

Just then, the door in the other room of the hotel suite burst open, and they could hear footsteps pounding on the floor. From the volume, there were multiple persons entering the suite. Beckett pushed Castle back down when he attempted to move. She shook her head. Her eyes were wide. He swallowed. She was afraid. Castle remembered her mentioning that the threat wasn't completely over even though Bracken had been arrested. He had compatriots.

"Beckett, you in here!?" came a female voice.

Above him, Castle felt the tension leave Beckett's body.

"We're in here," she called out, shifting to sit up. She grabbed the bedsheet and tugged it off the mattress, bringing with it some foam and fluff. Beckett looked at Castle and offered him a reassuring smile as she moved the bedsheet around to cover their nakedness. "It's okay."

He nodded, still overwhelmed by the whole experience. It wasn't like he hadn't been in such situations—though, none exactly like this—with Beckett before, he just wasn't expecting any now. He glanced up just in time to see a Hispanic woman wearing a navy-blue windbreaker over a flak vest stride into the room with her pistol drawn. She spotted the pair of them hiding behind the bed and relaxed.

"Good Lord, Beckett," she groaned. "Are you insane? I told you to stay put. We'd received reports of a hitman on the loose."

"Sorry," Beckett offered a half-hearted shrug, momentarily glancing at Castle. "It couldn't wait." And then she frowned. "How'd you find me?"

The woman shook her head as she holstered her weapon, and smirked. "Your father," she announced. "According to him, you were determined to talk with the writer." She glanced around the room, noting the clothing strewn across the carpeted floor. She gazed back at Beckett with a quirked eyebrow. "Seems like you were determined to do more than talk."

Beckett's cheeks flushed. Castle shifted uneasily under the bedsheet, very much aware of their naked state. He watched as the two women exchanged a look. From the familiarity and judging from what she'd told him about her time in the witness protection program, Castle was fairly certain that this was Deputy Marshal Samantha Ramirez, Beckett's WITSEC handler.

"You're lucky your Dad gave you up, Beckett," Ramirez said. "Our team spotted the shots coming from a building across the street. If we're lucky, we'll capture the son-of-a-bitch before he can escape." She paused, appraising the two of them. "In the meantime, get dressed Beckett. We need to get you out of here."

"I'm coming too," Castle spoke up, finally finding his voice.

Ramirez shook her head. "I don't think—"

"Where I go, he goes," Beckett asserted, her tone brokering no argument.

After a long beat, Ramirez nodded. "Fine," she glowered. "But hurry, we don't have time to dawdle." She ducked out of the room and left the pair of them to it.

Castle looked at Beckett. "Thanks."

She turned to him with a warm smile brightening her face. "I've spent too long without you, Castle," she said, reaching up to brush the flop of hair back from his forehead. "I'm not giving you up without a fight."

XXX

Castle sat in the back of the sedan with Beckett. His heart was pounding like a jackhammer inside his chest. He tried to control it, but it was impossible. This entire situation was just so overwhelming. First, he discovered that the love of his life was, in fact, alive. Second, he learned that she'd been put under witness protection until the man responsible for not just her mother's death, but ordering the hit on her, could be brought to justice. Third, he finally made love to Kate Beckett—a number of times, in fact. And last, someone had just tried to kill them.

"We're going to be okay, Castle," Beckett attempted to reassure him, reaching across the gap between them to squeeze his hand. She'd tied her blonde hair back into a low ponytail.

He looked at her, and she offered him a small smile. He tried to reciprocate, but it fell flat. He couldn't help but be anxious. This was definitely not how he had planned spending the rest their evening together.

Ramirez twisted around in the front seat to face them. "That was foolish of you, Beckett," she said, clearly disappointed in her charge. "I left strict instructions that you—"

"I know," Beckett interrupted, staring back defiantly. "And I don't care." She glanced over at Castle and squeezed his hand again. "It was a risk I had to take." She turned back to Ramirez. "Besides, I stayed in character the whole time, until we were alone."

"That's true," Castle jumped in, trying to help.

Ramirez shook her head. "The disguise only worked in Nebraska because nobody knew who you really were," she explained, then looked at Castle with an amused expression. "I'm surprised you didn't see through it immediately."

 _Yeah_ , Castle thought, _so am I_. Beckett opened her mouth to defend him, but he tightened his fingers around her hand, stopping her. "I might have been a little drunk," Castle admitted, because, in truth, he had been. "And… to be fair, I did think she was dead."

Ramirez narrowed her eyes, not entirely convinced. Eventually, she relented with a shrug. "Fine, I'll give you that," she said. "But still, from the way she talked about you, I'd have thought you were smarter than that."

Castle raised his eyebrows as he cocked his head towards Beckett. "You talked about me?" he asked, a little smirk forming on his lips.

"Oh, don't be so smug, Castle," Beckett said, rolling her eyes, however her lips still quirked upwards in a small smile. "You write entire books about _me_."

"Touché," he smirked.

Ramirez's radio crackled. She slipped back down into her seat, and snatched it up. While she talked with her team, Castle flirted his eyes over to Beckett, watching her brow wrinkle as she stared out the window, contemplating the situation. Always thinking. She had an exceptional mind. It was one of the things he loved most about her.

"What are you thinking?" he asked softly, wanting to keep the conversation between just them.

She frowned, glancing over at him. "I don't know," she admitted, gently shaking her head. "Something doesn't feel right." Her eyes suddenly jerked away, staring right past him. A look crossed over her face, a combination of shock and horror. "Castle! Hold on!"

"What—?" he turned his head to see what had startled her and was immediately blinded by the headlights of an oncoming SUV. Castle barely had enough time to prepare himself before everything went black.


	11. Danger Zone

Everything hurt. His vision was blurry and there was a dull ache coming from the back of his head. And his ears were ringing. The low roar of an engine captured his attention. He blinked his eyes, realizing he was hanging upside down, still buckled to the seat. Squinting, he peered out the shattered window and bent door frame, seeing a ubiquitous black SUV pulling back in reverse, jarring the frame of the sedan he was in.

Castle groaned, moving a hand up to touch his forehead, and wincing when he found a bump there. Stretching his arms, he reached for the seatbelt, which was clenching his waist tightly. Finding the buckle, he yanked back. He hadn't really been thinking too far ahead, because he collapsed down on the roof of the car, shards of glass from the shattered window digging into this palms.

Still disoriented from the hit and rollover, Castle finally came to his senses. He glanced over to where Beckett was still hanging from her seatbelt, unconscious.

"Kate!" he shouted.

Her eyes fluttered open and she moaned, brow furrowing. "Castle?"

"Stay still, don't worry, I'll get you down," he instructed, shifting around on the upturned car ceiling to kneel beside her.

He cupped the back of her head with one hand, while the other reached for the belt buckle. Beckett grabbed hold of his shoulders, giving herself some purchase so that she didn't collapse to the car roof like he had. Carefully, Castle helped Beckett right herself until she was sitting on the floor. He gingerly brushed her hair back from her face, checking for injuries.

"I'm fine," she insisted after a quick inhale. "Ramirez?"

Castle pursed his lips. He hadn't thought to check. Arching his neck, he looked towards the front of the sedan. The driver was slumped forward, dead; his neck had snapped upon impact. Ramirez was already out of her seat, checking herself for wounds. She was bleeding through a cut on her sleeve, but otherwise seemed fine. She was battered, but still conscious.

"You two okay?" she called back to them.

"As well as can be expected," Castle said dryly, "considering we were just rammed by another car."

Beckett crawled past him and reached around the front seat, groping around the driver's waistline until she found his holster. She gritted her teeth in triumph and pulled back, having retrieved his sidearm. She made a quick check of it, making sure it would still operate, before turning to Ramirez. "We need to get moving," she said, twisting around to take her heels off.

Ramirez cursed, and grabbed her radio, which had been thrown out of her hand when they were struck, and nodded. "Agreed."

"Castle," Beckett touched his shoulder lightly. "Follow me."

He bobbed his head, knowing it was best to follow instructions. Beckett turned around and shoved the side door open. Meanwhile, Ramirez kicked the windshield out and climbed out that way. Castle crawled after Beckett as she skidded out onto the asphalt barefoot. His nose wrinkled as he moved into a low crouch beside her.

"What?" she asked, noticing his expression.

"You smell something?"

"Gasoline," her eyes went wide as she glanced up at the overturned sedan. She grabbed Castle's sleeve and tugged. He went willingly. He didn't have to be told twice.

Keeping low, they hustled away from the wreck, making for the sidewalk. Beckett growled, momentarily stopping to pull at her dress. It made running awkward. She settled for simply rolling it up to her waist, exposing her lacy underwear. It was a temporary solution, but it gave her legs some ease of movement.

As she worked on it, Castle glanced back over his shoulder, seeing if they were being followed. "Where's Ramirez?" he questioned aloud.

Beckett jerked her head back and frowned. "She can handle herself," she gritted out, grabbing his hand and pulling him along with her as they scrambled behind a closed newsstand. The streets were oddly empty for a city that had a reputation such as New York. Once they had cover, Beckett handed Castle the gun.

"Here, I need to fix this," she said gesturing to her attire. "Can't really fight dressed like this."

He looked at her, stunned.

"I trust you to have my back," Beckett said, lightly touching his cheek. Just as he was about to respond, she pushed up on her toes and gave him a quick kiss on the lips, before turning her attention back to her expensive sheath dress.

Castle nodded absently, patting his jacket pockets in search of his phone. Maybe he could call Ryan and Esposito, they'd drop whatever they were doing to help once they found out Beckett was alive. But he couldn't find it.

"Shit!"

"What?" Beckett gasped, looking up from her inspection of her dress, eyes wide with worry.

"I lost my phone," he groaned.

"Castle," she bit back a curse. "You can buy another."

"Oh… right, yeah," Castle bobbed his head, gripping the gun tighter in his hand and refocusing on keeping a lookout, as instructed.

With the newsstand as cover, Beckett rolled the dress back down her legs. She glanced at it, and sighed in disappointment. Gritting her teeth, she gripped the bottom fringe, and gave it a sharp tug, ripping a long seam down the side, creating a lengthy slit to provide her with better leg motion.

Castle had been somewhat distracted watching her, but his ears perked up at the roar of an engine. He glanced around the edge of the newsstand and saw the high beams of the SUV barreling straight for them. Not wasting any time, Castle spun around and hooked his arm around Beckett's waist, causing her to yelp in surprise as he propelled them out of the way.

The SUV slammed into the newsstand just as they cleared it, demolishing the kiosk, and sending wood splinters of various sizes flying through the air. Castle gripped Beckett tightly, tucking her into his chest and shielding her from the blast with his large frame. Castle closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, grunting as he felt the impact against his back.

When it was over, Beckett immediately slipped out of his grasp, and grabbed his hand, pulling him with her as they ran down the sidewalk. Castle pumped his legs, breathing heavily. It had been a long time since he'd ran like this. Damn, he needed to work on his cardio.

The beastly growl of the SUV roared behind them like an unrelenting monster on the prowl. Castle risked a glance over his shoulder, seeing the bright lights of the high beams as the SUV stampeded towards them. Nearly stumbling, Castle retrained his eyes back in front of him, almost skidding to a stop when he saw Deputy Ramirez standing right in front of them, pistol raised.

"Move!" she yelled.

Beckett grabbed Castle's arm and pulled him with her as she veered to the left, towards the building. Ramirez adjusted her aim, now that she had a clear line for sight, and fired.

Her bullets ricocheted off the gleaming front grill. She fired off some more shots, holding her ground. Castle looked at Beckett, dismayed at what he was seeing. Ramirez was playing a very dangerous game of chicken. When none of her shots seemed to have any effect on the driver's intent to mow her down, Ramirez shifted her aim, and fired off a rapid series of four shots.

The loud pop of the front wheels signaled her success. The front of the vehicle lurched forward as the rubber tore away from the rims. Sparks flew up into the air as the metal made contact with the concrete sidewalk, filling the air with a piercing, ear-splitting squeal. The SUV, however, miraculously maintained its speed and trajectory.

Beckett yanked at Castle and gestured towards the alley just ahead of the barreling SUV's path. "Run," she commanded.

And he did. Hands clasp tightly together, Castle and Beckett raced towards the SUV, hoping their timing was right. The high beams were blinding, forcing Castle to squint. Beckett pulled him along, and he trusted her lead. They dove into the side alley just as the SUV swerved past them, the driver finally losing control of the vehicle. Metal groaned and screeched as the SUV rammed into the side of the building. They had no idea if Ramirez was okay or not, and they really didn't have time to speculate, so they just ran on.

Sirens could be heard in the distance. Either Ramirez had called for support or someone had called 911. At this point, it didn't matter to Castle. He just wanted to get Beckett to safety, even though he knew she was more than capable of taking care of herself. He'd lost her once. He wouldn't lose her again. Keeping his eyes peeled, Castle looked around their surroundings as they continued running down the alleyway. Seeing something, Castle released her hand and skidded to a stop.

"Castle, what are you doing?" Beckett questioned, gasping for air as he hurried towards the building wall that bracketed the right-hand side of the alley.

"Creating some obstacles," Castle informed, grunting as he planted his feet into the grimy ground and used all his weight to shove a dumpster into the center of the alley, blocking any pursuers path.

When he rejoined Beckett, she nodded, impressed. "Good thinking," she said, slipping her hand inside his once again.

He offered her a quick wink and grin, before following her back down the alley. The sirens were getting louder, and Castle could only hope the police would arrive in time to capture the bad guy before his pursuit began. But his wishes were dashed when he heard the bang of the dumpster being shoved aside. Beckett squeezed his hand in silent support as they continued on, not wasting any time to look back.

"Fire escape," Beckett panted, pointing towards the rusty metal ladder hanging off the side of the building to their left.

They slowed and charged directions. Thanks to his height, Castle was able to reach the chain to tug the ladder down. It rattled into place, and he frowned, uncertain.

"It's the best we got, Castle," Beckett said, handing him the gun.

He checked to make sure the safety was on before tucking it into his waistband and following her up the wobbly ladder. The old metal groaned and creaked under their hurried movements, and Castle worried it wouldn't hold. But it did. As they reached the first landing, Castle felt the ladder vibrate under his hand. He arched his neck and looked down, spotting the dark form of their pursuer.

"Castle," Beckett hissed, tugging at his coat sleeve. "Keep moving."

He let out a grunt, again wishing he'd kept himself in better shape, as he pumped his legs, climbing up the tarnished bars and steps, doing his best to keep pace with Beckett. He tried to keep his eyes trained ahead and not think about the man trailing after them. But it was difficult. They had been in many life and death situations before, yet, for whatever reason, this one felt more desperate. They made haste, ascending up a series of rattling steps and ladders until they reached the rooftop.

Beckett scrambled ahead, rushing towards the access door. He hurried after her. She let out a curse when she discovered it was locked from the inside.

"The gun, Castle," she said, spinning around and holding her hand out.

He passed it over without question, heaving deep breaths as he tried to regather his energy. At first, he believed she was going to shoot out the lock, but then thought better of that, seeing as the door was made of metal, not wood. Castle took off his suit jacket and absently tossed it down on the rooftop, watching as Beckett anxiously paced back and forth in front of the locked door. She was dripping with perspiration, as was he. His shirt was sticking to his back, and his cheeks were flushed with the exertion he'd had to unexpectedly expend. He almost wished he had not spent so much of his stamina in other pursuits earlier that evening. Almost.

"Castle!" Beckett cried, snapping him out of his blissful memories of making love to her as she grabbed him and yanked him back behind a large air duct protruding out of the flat surface of the roof just as shots were fired from their pursuer. The bullets bounced off the metal access door they'd been standing in front of. She frantically padded her hand up and down his torso, searching. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," he said, placing his hand over hers.

She nodded, gazing up at him with concern. "Stay here," she ordered, face hardening as she geared up for battle.

"Kate…," he started to object, but she silenced him with a look.

"I have to do this," she insisted, carding a hand through her hair. "I have to end this. I won't let them take you from me."

"I don't want to lose you, Kate," he pleaded, emotion clogging up his throat.

"You won't," she promised, stepping forward and pushing up on her toes to kiss him. "I'll be right back."

And then she was raising the gun, holding it in a familiar stance, all cop. Shoulders hunched, making herself a smaller target, Beckett swept around the corner, shouting at their pursuer to freeze and put his hands up. Castle flattened his back against the cool metal of the vent, feeling useless. He couldn't let Beckett face this by herself. This was no longer just her fight.

Clenching his fists, Castle prepared himself for whatever he needed to do. He was a gentle man, but people underestimated his strength. Hal Lockwood had made that mistake. He hadn't even thought when he dove on top of the hitman. All he had been thinking of was protecting Beckett. He still remembered Beckett's surprised and impressed look when she had found him kneeling over the thug, having punched his lights out.

With the memories of his past heroics as fuel for his courage, Castle stepped out from behind the vent to confront this latest in a long string of goons to threaten the woman he loved. He found Beckett and the man locked in a standoff. The man noticed his arrival and quickly realigned his aim. Sensing what had happened, Beckett launched herself towards the hitman without delay, knocking him off his feet just as he pulled the trigger. The bullet flew right above Castle's head, embedding itself in the top square of air duct behind him with a loud, reverberating bang.

He watched in alarm as Beckett and the mercenary wrestled for control. Both their guns went flying, skidding across the flattop of the roof in opposite directions. Castle stood there, debating what to do. He just felt so powerless. Beckett was holding her own, for the moment, but that could change. He had to help.

The mercenary swung his body around, rolling Beckett over onto her back. He leapt over her, fist raised. Castle collided with him before he could strike, knocking him back to the ground. Beckett scrambled back to her feet.

"The gun, Castle," she shouted. "The gun!"

He nodded, turning around and scanning the pebbled rooftop for one of the two guns. Spotting it, he ran after the weapon, bending down to snatch it up. When he spun back around, he found Beckett and the mercenary once again locked in fierce hand-to-hand combat. Puffing out a breath of air, he dashed back to them. Beckett spotted his approach, and distracted the thug with a quick roundhouse kick. He staggered back. Castle took the opportunity to flip the gun to Beckett.

She caught it deftly out of the air with a small smirk, spinning around to aim it at the mercenary. However, he had recovered. He moved, fast, knocking it out of her hand, sending it flying off the roof. Castle groaned, and arched his neck around to search for the other gun. He found it lying close to the rain gutter. While Beckett parried the man's attacks, Castle jogged over to retrieve it.

As he returned, Beckett attempted another swinging kick, but this time the mercenary was prepared. He caught her leg with both hands and grinned, using her own momentum against her, flinging her around and dropping her hard on the ground. Beckett let out a cry, and Castle clenched his jaw. He rushed at the attacker, blind with rage. The man hadn't expected such wrath from the writer, however still managed to easily dodge Castle. The mercenary tripped him, sending him falling face first to the roof. Castle groaned, watching as the gun he'd been holding bounced away.

Before their assailant could retrieve the firearm, Beckett leapt back to her feet, and went in for hand-to-hand combat, punching and jabbing her fists as quick and precise as she could with exhaustion nearing. The mercenary easily deflected her blows, ramming her in the chest with a quick strike, sending her to the ground once again.

"Stay down, Detective," the mercenary instructed. Their fierce confrontation didn't even seem to faze him, stamina and endurance still fully stocked.

"Why are you doing this?" she groaned, clutching her middle. "It's over. Bracken's in custody."

The man remained silent, staring at her with a steel gaze, as he stalked towards her. He took his time pulling her up and wrapping his hands around her neck. Beckett gasped for breath until he kneed her in the stomach, releasing his hold of her. She landed on wobbly legs, panting for air as she pivoted around, disoriented. He sneered at her, punching her in the back as she fell to her knees.

"Don't worry," he spoke in a calm and cool voice with no feeling or emotion. "It will all be over soon."

He walked up behind her, placing both hands on each side of her head, with the clear intention of snapping her neck.

"Hey!" Castle shouted, reminding the goon that he was still there. He rolled his shoulders and firmed up his grip on the gun, taking aim. "Get your hands off her."

The mercenary smirked, amused, releasing Beckett and turning around to face him. "You don't have the guts," he insisted, shifting his focus back on Beckett.

For a brief moment, Castle allowed the man's taunt to get to him. But then he reminded himself that he was the one with the gun. He clenched his jaw, took aim, and fired.

XXX

He sat in the back of the ambulance, a blanket wrapped around him, staring off into space. His chest felt tight, and it was hard to breath. He couldn't believe what had just happened. Closing his eyes, Castle recalled the fight up on the roof.

The bullet had struck the mercenary in the shoulder, knocking him off balance, and surprising, not only him, but Castle as well. After all, he had been aiming for the man's head. Beckett used the opportunity to push herself up to her feet and renew her attack on their assailant. She kicked and punched, making sure to strike his shoulder on numerous occasions. Castle watched as they ferociously danced around one another, before the man bellowed with rage and charged her. Beckett kept her eyes locked on the man, waiting him out. She stepped aside just as he was about to plow into her. He ended up sailing right past her, tumbling over the edge of the building and falling to his death.

"You okay?"

Castle blinked, returning to the present. He flicked his eyes up to see Beckett standing in front of him, wearing a pair of NYPD sweatpants and a dark blue FBI windbreaker. Not far behind her, he could see who he assumed was Agent Brent Culpepper, he had arrived not long after the mercenary had gone splat, talking with Deputy Marshal Samantha Ramirez, whose arm was in a sling after her shoulder had been dislocated, and two uniformed NYPD officers.

"I'm fine," he rumbled out, looking back at her. "Or, at least I will be when all this is over." He paused, running his tongue over his teeth as he thought. "Do we know who he was?"

Beckett nodded as she sat down next to him in the back of the ambulance. "Cole Maddox," she said. "Well, that's what came up on the computer, but Culpepper thinks it's an alias."

"Are there more of them?" Castle asked, worried this wasn't going to be the last hitman sent after her.

"We can't be certain," Beckett admitted, not wanting to hide anything from him, which he was grateful for. He'd rather be informed than unprepared. She sighed, and reached out to clutch his hand in hers, slowly intertwining their fingers. "But, for now, yes. Maddox was the last of Bracken's associates the FBI had been tracking."

They sat in companionable silence for a while, staring out at the bustle of forensic and FBI teams moving about the scene as NYPD uniforms cordoned off the area, all bathed in a sea of blue and red lights that flashed atop the police patrol cars. Agent Culpepper was agitatedly talking with Deputy Ramirez, occasionally glancing in their direction, specifically at Beckett.

"Are you in trouble?" Castle asked.

"No more so than I usually am," Beckett answered with a shrug. "They're not happy I broke protocol by going out to see you, but Maddox's death seems to have mollified some of that."

Castle nodded, staring down at the ground as he thought. Pursing his lips, he swallowed before craning his neck back up to look at her. "You still think it was worth the risk?" he asked, and then elaborated when she gave him a puzzled look, "Going against orders and coming to see me?"

Beckett tugged the FBI windbreaker tighter around her shoulders and narrowed her eyes in thought. "Yes," she answered with a definitive nod. She looked him in the eye. "If I had to do it all over again, I would. I couldn't spend another moment without you knowing I was alive, and that I loved you. So, yes, it was worth the risk, Castle. You are worth it. Always."

His lips quirked upwards at the use of that word— _their word_. Beckett smiled back at him.

"Always," he echoed, leaning forward to cup her jaw in his hand as he kissed her.

Amazing how much could change in a single day, Castle thought as he continued to kiss the woman he loved. When he woke up that morning, Castle had believed Kate Beckett was dead, and that it was time for him to move on. Now, she was alive, and kissing him in the back of an ambulance after they had just survived an attempt on her life. He hoped Culpepper and Ramirez were right, that Cole Maddox was the last of Bracken's goons. Because Castle was looking forward to tomorrow.

Things were finally going his way.


	12. Epilogue: In My Veins

One year later…

Katherine Houghton Beckett stared at her reflection. Her hair, once dyed a bright blonde, had long since returned to its natural caramel brown. Currently, it was tied up on her head in a fancy updo with a delicate crown of white flowers circling it. She stepped back from the mirror, and glanced down at her white dress. It fit perfectly, hugging her curves in all the right ways. She was surprised when her father pulled it out of storage, not so subtly suggesting that there was no reason for her to go shopping. She readily agreed, thinking what better way to honor her mother than to wear her wedding dress. In a way, it was now like Johanna Beckett was there with her.

A soft knocking pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Come in," she called, swirling around to find her father slipping inside the room.

"You look beautiful, Katie," he declared, striding forward to embrace her, careful not to mess up her hair and makeup.

"Thanks, Dad," she said, stepping back to once again scrutinize her appearance in the mirror.

A lot had happened in the last year.

Nicole Brennon was put to rest once and for all when Senator William H. Bracken was sentenced to multiple lifetimes in prison, and Kate Beckett was allowed out of the shadows. Thankfully there was no ridiculous aftermath where Bracken had some silent partner. Cole Maddox appeared to be the last. So, it was over, and Beckett was free.

Initially, she wanted to get her own place, assert her independence, but Castle persuaded her otherwise, easily convincing her into moving in with him. That man had a seriously talented tongue. She was rendered powerless under his ministrations.

Life in the loft wasn't exactly as she'd expected. Martha, who was also enjoying a career resurgence thanks to her one woman play, was overjoyed with the return of her son's muse. His daughter, less so, but she was still welcoming. It made for some awkward family dinners, but it got better. Kate understood. Alexis was just being cautious. She didn't want her father hurt. All she wanted was for him to be happy. On that account, they both agreed. Castle, on the other hand, was just eager for two of the most important women in his life to get along, which eventually they did when the younger woman realized just how committed Kate was to her father.

With Castle by her side, Kate began the monumental task of rebuilding her life. She reacquainted herself with her friends, taking as much time as needed to make up for the deception that had been force upon her by circumstances beyond her control. The boys were overwhelmed and overjoyed by her resurrection, and immediately bombarded her with questions she really wasn't ready to answer, regarding her potential return to the force. Lanie had threatened to smack her, which she did—playfully—before wrapping her up in a fierce and suffocating hug. It took time, but she made things right by her friends. They understood it hadn't been her idea to fake her death, and also understood her drive and desire to solve her mother's murder.

And Kate had to admit, easing back into her life would have been more difficult if she hadn't had Castle by her side. He was her rock, her lifeboat, her solid ground.

After much discussion with Castle and her father, Kate decided to reapply to the NYPD, knowing not to expect anything. So, it came as a surprise to her when she was welcomed back to the Twelfth Precinct, under the command of Captain Victoria "Iron" Gates. Esposito was now squad leader, and though she missed her leadership role, Kate didn't dispute his new position. In her absence, he'd earned it. She was just pleased to have her old job back, which—after calling in a few favors—involved Castle by her side.

It seemed almost unbelievable that after three years of being dead, Kate Beckett was once again alive, and thriving. And she owed a lot of that to the unrelenting love of a certain ruggedly handsome man.

"It's time," her father interrupted her thoughts. "You ready?"

Kate turned and smiled. "Yes," she said, looping her arm through her father's. "I'm ready."

They departed the room and walked the short distance towards the seaside backyard of Castle's Hamptons house, where a small number of guests had gathered. Kate had wanted a small, intimate affair, with only family and friends. She'd been concerned Castle would want to make a big to-do over their nuptials, but he surprised her by agreeing, saying that her idea was perfect.

A white gazebo had been set up at the end of the yard, decorated with colorful wildflowers. Underneath it stood the love of her life. Kate squeezed her father's arm and he smiled back at her, happy and proud.

During the whole ceremony, all she could hear was her heart beating beneath her chest. It was like a dream. Back when she had been Nicole Brennon, all alone in Nebraska, Kate had given up hope on ever getting her happily ever after. But now, here she was, pledging her lifetime love for another in front of her family and friends.

"Kate," Castle said, taking her hands in his. "The moment we met, my life became extraordinary. I thought I knew it all. But I was so wrong. You taught me so much. How to be a better father and son… a better man. I cannot imagine my life without you in it. I love you, Katherine Beckett. And the mystery of you is the one I want to spend the rest of my life exploring. I promise to love you, to be your friend and your partner in crime and life, for the rest of my life and beyond."

She laughed softly in happiness, and beamed brightly as Castle slid the silver wedding band onto her finger. After appreciating the moment for a lingering minute, Kate took a deep breath and recited her vows.

"The moment that I met you, my life became extraordinary," she echoed his words. "You taught me to be my best self. To look forward to tomorrow's adventures. And when I was vulnerable, you were strong. During my darkest days, you were a beacon of light, guiding me back home. I love you, Richard Castle. And I want to live my life in the warmth of your smile and the strength of your embrace. I promise you, I will love you. I will be your friend. And your partner in crime and in life. Always."

Kate took his hand in hers and slid the wedding band onto his finger. They both stared down, marveling in awe at finally arriving here. Then Castle curled his fingers around hers, and squeezed. She squeezed back, lifting her eyes to his.

"By the power vested in me by the state of New York," the officiant declared. "I now pronounce you husband and wife."

Neither waited for further instruction before closing the distance and sealing their union with a kiss.

Later, while they swayed quietly together on the outdoor dance floor, with her head resting on his shoulder, Kate heard the soft strings of a song drift through the air. She recognized it immediately. It perfectly encapsulated their relationship; the struggle, the bad and the good, everything. She smiled softly, and tilted her head back to look at her husband.

Castle smiled, unable to keep the awe off his face as he stared back at his wife. "You approve?" he asked.

She nodded. "It's perfect," Kate declared. "You really are in my veins, Richard Castle, and I cannot get you out."

"Good, because it was either this or 'Get Lucky'," he waggled his eyebrows suggestively, smirking cheekily.

Kate laughed, light and happy. "Oh, we're definitely staying up all night to get lucky, Castle," she replied saucily with a wink.

Castle laughed contentedly, pulling her closer. Kate laid her head back down on his shoulder, and they continued swaying to the music together, alone in their newlywed bliss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for coming along on this adventure with me and trusting me to give Caskett a happy ending. I've basically lived this story for the last month, and it's both satisfying and bittersweet to complete its journey.
> 
> This story was inspired by an anon prompt I found on the castleficpromoter tumblr page: "KNOCKOUT AU: After barely surviving her shooting, FBI put Kate into Witsec as they hunt done those responsible. Castle and the gang are told she died on the operating table. Castle continues to write Nikki Heat, in honor of the woman he loved. 2 years later, during a book signing/launch party, Castle meets a gorgeous blonde. The two hit it off, and end up heading back to a hotel room, where Castle discovers the blonde is really Kate. (his reaction up to author, though happy ending please!)"


End file.
